Home is Where the Heart Is
by ladybrit
Summary: Doc threatened to leave Dodge City on more than one occasion. This time he did, but soon found out that not all the evil doers came to Kansas.
1. Chapter 1

**HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS**

The story takes place after the Season 2 episode Greater Love.

Chapter 1

The loud rap on the wooden door broke the tense silence in the cabin. Adams knew who it was even before the voice followed it. Butler almost jumped at the sound but recovered himself quickly.

"Who's that?" he yelled, his voice gravelly and aggressive.

The unmistakable voice of Matt Dillon answered, announcing that he was unarmed and coming in.

"Dad-blamed fool," Adams cursed. Butler had ordered him to open the door but all he wanted to do was tell the lawman that he shouldn't have come. There would still be time for him to leave, but he knew his friend better than that. The marshal entered, hands raised, and an empty holster by his side.

"Why didn't you stay outside Matt?" Doc pleaded, he was sure now that both of them would be killed. Dillon would die, and it was all because of him.

Matt looked at Butler with cold, fearless eyes. "I've got one man outside, Butler," he explained, "And that gun you're holding only fires one shot, then you have to reload. The second you pull the trigger you're done for."

Butler looked at the lawman and quickly swung the rifle towards him.

"You forgot one thing, Dillon, I'd rather kill a United States Marshal than a doctor any day. I'll shoot you before your man can kill me."

"Go ahead." Matt almost looked pleased with himself, "Nobody's stopping you."

Butler seemed confused for a moment and Adams took the opportunity to draw attention to himself.

"Matt, why didn't you stay outside?"

The words were hardly out of his mouth before the blast from the rifle shook the cabin and made the ground tremble under his feet. It was followed almost instantaneously by the crack of a pistol coming from the small window behind Butler. The cabin was dark and had that musty aroma, but now the unmistakable smell of gunpowder and fresh blood assaulted his nostrils. He stood in horror as his tall friend took the rifle bullet that was originally intended for him. In the dim light he watched, helpless, as the massive figure grabbed at his chest and fell lifeless to the ground.

"No!" he screamed. "Matt, why didn't you listen to me? I told you not to come."

There were two bodies lying on the floor at his feet. Jed Butler was a murderer. He hated to see the death of any man, but Jed mattered very little. The other body he could not believe, a man who had led a seemingly charmed existence, enforcing the law and somehow avoiding death, often by the slimmest of margins. Now he lay dead in a pool of blood mingled with the dirt and dust of the cabin floor. He had been brought down by a coward like Jed Butler. Matt Dillon had walked into this shack unarmed, with his hands raised in an effort to free the physician and Butler had murdered him. Before he even knelt down beside his friend he knew the unthinkable had happened. Matt Dillon was dead. He had more than willingly given his life to save that of his friend Doc Adams. So many thoughts were rushing through his mind. Such sorrow mingled with guilt. Guilt because Adams knew it was he who had summoned this untimely death upon his friend.

He was aware of the rapid pounding of his heart within his chest. He was sweating. He could feel salty tears welling in his eyes.

"No!" he screamed again, to any entity that might be listening. "Not this, it's my fault. He gave his life so I would live."

He buried his face in his hands and his tears mingled with the pooled blood staining the floor.

ooo000ooo

It was dark when Galen Adams awoke. He knew it had been a dream, but it left him sweating and shaken. His heart rate was elevated and he could feel tremors passing through his body. It could so easily have happened that way. Jed Butler could have killed Matt Dillon right there in that shack, and Dillon would have let him do it just to save Adams' life.

Earlier the previous day Doc had returned to town from that terrible scene. He remembered the awful moment when Matt Dillon had banged on the door, and Butler had ordered Doc to let him in. He should have refused, but Butler had the barrel of the rifle poking his back. He tried to tell the lawman to go away, that he could handle this, but of course Matt wouldn't listen. Instead he entered the cabin unarmed with hands raised, willing to die to protect the physician.

It was a horrible feeling to think that his friend, almost a son, was willing to give his life in that way. Fortunately Butler was confused by the action. He said that there was no one in the world who would have walked through that door to save his life. He had never seen such love in his entire life. Matt had eventually arrested the man and taken him back to jail, but it all could have ended so differently, just as it had in his nightmare.

Adams left the warm confines of his bed and shuffled towards the old roll-top desk in the front office where he kept a bottle of whisky hidden at the back of a drawer. Not the rough stuff he used for patients, but the smooth, finer variety he got Kitty Russell to order especially for him. He opened the bottle and took a swallow, then followed it quickly with a second before replacing the cap and putting it back where he found it. He wiped some of the sweat from his face with his left hand as he thought of Kitty Russell. Kitty, whatever would have happened to her if he had had to ride back to town with Dillon's body. She would know that it was because of him that Dillon had died. The thought almost brought tears to his eyes as he pictured the scene.

Somehow he managed to put the vision behind him. He had to get some sleep before the sun came up, and it would be time to go make rounds in the countryside west of Dodge City .

The same dream haunted him for several nights. Just the thought that he could so easily have been the cause of Matt Dillon's death disturbed him. It hadn't happened, but it could have. The thought stuck with him for many days. Strangely enough it was Chester Goode who brought him the solution.

The marshal's assistant always looked forward to picking up the mail for his boss. It gave him a sense of importance to accept all those official looking government envelopes. It was usually nothing more exciting than wanted circulars or warnings regarding the suspected whereabouts of gangs intent on robbing banks, or stage-coaches, or anything else that could possibly be robbed. Occasionally the marshal's pay check would arrive. That was supposed to be a monthly event but often those envelopes got delayed or never showed up at all.

That morning the clerk handed Chester Doc's mail as well as the marshal's. There were two packages and three journals for the doctor, which were, as usual quite heavy, accompanied by a stack of four personal letters. It was a long established understanding that Chester would collect Doc's packages for him so, after leaving the official mail on Mr. Dillon's desk, he climbed the stairs to Adam's office and deposited the bundle on the corner of Doc's accepted a cup of coffee in return for his trouble, then stayed talking for a few minutes until Adams shooed him out saying he had several patients to visit that morning and didn't have time to waste. It was, therefore, late in the afternoon when Doc sat down in the old swivel chair at his desk and started going through the stack of correspondence.

Two journals were from back east. He had a standing subscription so they arrived every month or at least as close to that as the stage lines could manage. The third one was different. It had come all the way from Tolands Medical College in San Francisco. He was aware that the Medical College had recently become a part of the University of California, and was already becoming quite well known for its research. How did it get to him? He had no idea. He flipped through the pages, glancing at the titles of the articles, then set it aside, definitely planning to look at it in detail later. Next he reached for the old rusty scalpel he used as a letter opener, and began opening the private correspondence. The first two letters were from pharmaceutical companies advertising their latest wares. The third one looked more interesting. It, too, had come from California.

He opened the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of velum covered with vaguely familiar handwriting. He looked at the bottom for a signature - Ben Williams. Goodness! He hadn't thought of Ben for ages. Their paths had crossed in Baltimore many years ago. The two men had spent a year working together in a small practice in a poorer part of town. The note was very simple. It told him to refer to page 24 in the journal from San Francisco. There was an advertisement there he wanted Adams to read.

The final line read, "I know you must be tired of living in such an isolated, uncivilized town as Dodge City. Do you remember how much we enjoyed working together in Baltimore? Consider it."

Doc smiled to himself for a moment. He did remember those days. Both men were fresh out of medical school at the time, and full of idealism, were out to change the world. Of course things never work out quite the way the eyes of youth visualize them. There is always disillusion and compromise along the way. He couldn't really leave Dodge, could he? Oh, he had thought about it many times and had to admit he wanted to see California - in fact earlier that week he had told his friend Matt Dillon just that very thing. He was tired of Dodge City and was going to leave town and head for San Francisco. Matt had threatened to put him in jail if he tried it. He had even gone so far as to tell him he would have to run his practice from there if that's what it took to keep him in Dodge.

He opened the journal and turned to page 24. There was a quarter page advertisement extolling the virtues of Drs. Mortimer and Williams and how they were looking for someone to join their practice. "A physician skilled in General Practice and Surgery" is what it said. That pretty much described Galen Adams.

At first he tossed the journal aside. No use even considering it. He set off to make his afternoon rounds, but as he drove his dilapidated buggy and looked at the sad state of people living in this god-forsaken land, the idea began to grow inside him.

It wasn't really money he was after, although occasionally getting paid in cash instead of potatoes, or more often than not, just "thank you's", did get old after a while. Mostly he missed the opportunity to meet with colleagues, to discuss a case here and there, or even mull over some new ideas. He was totally isolated from that. On the other hand what of his Dodge City friends and "family"?. He was sure he would find friends in a new town, but what of Matt Dillon, Kitty Russell and, yes, even Chester? He would miss them for sure, but then there was nothing to prevent them visiting him in San Francisco. He might even make it back to Dodge one day. The railroads were getting faster and more efficient all the time.

The only other thing left to work out was who would take care of his patients, not the least of whom was the marshal - who probably utilized his services more than most. On the other hand if he left town Matt would never have to face the possibility of sacrificing his own life for that of the physician.

There were many other doctors who could well take his place here. It didn't take a lot of skill to remove bullets and set broken limbs, even delivering babies wasn't all that difficult. He knew one or two people who might be willing to come to a frontier town like Dodge and escape the very staid and ordered life back east.

By the time he got home that evening, he had almost managed to convince himself that it was the right thing to do.

ooo000ooo

Adams didn't like to drink alone, shut away in his office. He had seen too many physicians succumb to that temptation. So after a less than satisfying meal at Delmonico's, he found himself heading for the Long Branch. Kitty Russell was helping out behind the bar, but she saw him come through the swinging doors from the street. She had looked up and smiled, then without asking, poured two shots of whisky and carried them to a quiet table at the back of the saloon.

The doctor sat staring at the glass she had placed in front of him.

"What's the matter Doc, did you lose a patient today?"

"Not quite," he answered without raising his eyes.

"Well something's troubling you."

The man just nodded, twisting the shot glass between his fingers, "Did Matt ever tell you what happened with Jed Butler?"

"You know Matt doesn't talk about anything like that very much. He told me Butler had tried kidnapping you, but it didn't work and he managed to arrest him without any bloodshed."

The physician lifted his glass and took a swallow of the whisky, hoping it would numb his fears. Kitty followed his lead, raising her drink to her lips.

"Matt almost got killed trying to rescue me, Kitty. He entered that cabin unarmed, and tried to get Butler to kill him in order to save me."

Although she hated the risks that Matt took as part of his job, she also knew his feelings about the physician. The marshal and the doctor could be heard taunting each other with words many times - not quite the same as between Doc and Chester, but friendly teasing none-the-less. Kitty knew how much Matt Dillon admired the doctor and his skills and understood how fortunate Dodge was to have such a knowledgeable and caring physician.

"You know Doc, I hate that Matt lays his life on the line every day to protect what he believes in, but that is who he is. If he'd died out there, it wouldn't have been your fault, it would have been something he did because that's how he feels about his friends and his badge. He would give his life to protect any of us, or this town, if he thought it was the right thing to do."

"That doesn't mean I have to like it. I couldn't have lived with myself if it had happened that way."

She reached out and put a hand on his arm, smiling into his weary, blood-shot eyes. "Doc, there is no way any of us can influence what Matt Dillon does. Even if the worst had happened it would've been Jed Butler's doing, not yours."

Doc had no answer, he knew what he felt. He lifted the glass to his lips and swallowed the remainder of its contents in one go. As he set it down he looked across at Kitty. He could not explain his feelings for this remarkable woman. She had clawed her way through one of the roughest, toughest businesses in Dodge City. She had competed with men on equal terms and come out on top. Through it all she had not lost her feminine charm nor had she become bitter and hardened. He knew from his own observations that she helped any number of people by giving away meals, lending money, or organizing some of the best celebrations Dodge City had ever seen. He also knew that when all was said and done there was only one reason she'd stayed in Dodge City in the first place, and that reason was Matt Dillon. Neither of them shared their feelings for each other in public, but he had witnessed on several occasions the deep bond developing between those two young people.

The first time had been when Matt had been shot, right there on Front Street a year or more ago. He had seen with his own eyes how Kitty had tried to rush to the lawman as he lay there in the street. She had stayed by the man's bedside for days, and he saw how the lawman had responded to her when he was delirious with fever. On the other hand he had witnessed Matt throwing drunken cowboys out of the Long Branch when he thought they were harassing Kitty beyond what she could deal with, but if all was going well he let her handle the situation in her own way. Oh yes, there were definitely deep feelings and understanding there.

He watched her now. She had left the table to take a tray of drinks to a group of poker players. She moved with a confidence and charm that fascinated him. The red hair and the dancing blue eyes - well, if he wasn't old enough to be her father - but enough of that thought. If anything were to happen to Matt Dillon it would devastate her, and he knew there was no way he could accept responsibility for that. There was nothing he could do to control much of what happened to the marshal, but he could at least prevent himself from becoming the cause of the man's demise.

He got up from the table. Kitty turned towards him while still placing beer mugs in front of the poker players. She had questions on her face. He managed to smile.

"I'll see you later, Kitty."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Home is Where the Heart Is**

Chapter 2

It was not a long walk from the Long Branch to his office, but Doc's thoughts weighed heavier on him with every step he took. He knew now what he was going to do. It would take several weeks to arrange, but it could be done.

He started by getting the San Francisco journal from his desk and opening it to page 24. There was an address there. Setting pen to paper he wrote to Drs. Mortimer and Williams, expressing his interest in the appointment advertised in the journal and briefly quoting his qualifications and experience. He placed it carefully in an envelope and in his precise hand addressed it clearly. He then took a second sheet of paper and envelope and wrote to a colleague, Dr Alan Sutherland. As far as Adams knew, Sutherland's wife had died as the result of a terrible accident about a year ago. The man was devastated and handed his practice over to another physician so he could take time off to try to recover. Now he heard that the man was helping out here and there in practices of friends, but was looking to leave town and start afresh somewhere else. He knew Sutherland was a good physician, and Dodge would be a great opportunity for him. He addressed and sealed the second envelope and placed it alongside the first on his desk. One he would mail the next day, the second would wait until he heard from San Francisco. He would also send a vaguely worded telegram to Ben Williams in San Francisco. Nothing too specific, just enough to let man know he was interested. There was no way to be more explicit. Words traveled quickly from the telegraph office - unfortunately not all of them remained in the wires and it was important that no one hear of his plans.

He slept well that night, the pressure had been lifted from him, and the nightmares did not return. He tried to go about his life as usual while waiting for the reply from San Francisco. It took about two weeks to get back to him.

Drs. Mortimer and Williams were looking forward to Dr. Galen Adams joining their practice feeling that it would be a beneficial move for all concerned. They asked him to notify them, as soon as possible, of his estimated arrival date.

So that was it. In about two more weeks he would be leaving Dodge City. He had threatened to do it so many times but now it was actually going to happen. He had mixed feelings. No turning back now, he told himself. Just remember the reason he had planned to leave in the first place and enjoy being with his friends for the time he had left here in Dodge City.

He had managed to make subtle enquiries as to how a man might travel with as much speed as possible to California. It turned out that the Union Pacific Railroad stopped in Hays City. It would take him all the way to Sacramento. From there he would have to take a second train to San Francisco. That part would not be a problem. Leaving Dodge without anyone knowing or trying to stop him, that would be the difficult part.

ooo000ooo

Luck seemed to be on his side that evening. Earlier he had been to see Mr. Botkin at the bank. Trying not to arouse suspicion he had withdrawn $200.00 from his account which left an almost equal amount behind. Somehow he decided to leave it there. He could always send for it if he needed it - and if not, it was a kind of security, one last connection that he could not quite sever. He was just leaving the bank when Chester almost knocked him down. He was in a hurry going somewhere.

"Whoa there. Where are you going in such a hurry?" he grumbled to the young man with the stiff leg."You're going to knock somebody over."

"Well now Doc, I gotta hurry, yer see. I gotta get Mr. Dillon's horse ready because he's gotta leave town. Oh, not that he has to leave town but he has to go to Cimarron." The young man seemed quite breathless in his haste.

"Don't stand here talking to me then, why aren't you down at the stable?"

"Doc, you just asked me what I was doing and I was tryin' to tell yer."

Doc interrupted him. "Go on Chester, and mind you ...saddle that horse properly."

He wanted to say something more, something like "Stay safe Chester, and watch after Matt," but that would not work with what he was planning to do. So he said nothing more, just buried his feelings and moved on.

He made his way along the boardwalk heading back towards his office. He would pass right by the marshal's office and, almost unwillingly, thought about going inside. Matt Dillon was a man for whom he had developed an almost parental affection accompanied by a genuine admiration. It hadn't always been so. A little less than two years ago the brash young lawman had ridden into town on a big buckskin horse wearing a bright metal star on his shirt. In Doc's opinion at the time, the man was all pride. He thought he could out-draw and out-fight anyone around. He had watched the young man change under the burden of the job he had chosen. Gradually the energetic young marshal had become stoic and more introspective. The badge set him apart from the rest of the townspeople with the result that he had few friends. Some disliked him because he tried to keep violence and dishonesty out of the saloons and gambling halls and because he wouldn't permit crooked gamblers in the town. Others thought he was too tough on the Texas drovers who came into town with the trail herds. He kept them from destroying the city, but many business owners thought that sent some of the cattle money away from Dodge.

Most people were frightened to get too close to a man who had so many enemies, or were scared to become close friends with someone whose job did not come with a long life expectancy. There was one exception. The beautiful redhead, Kitty Russell, who had recently become part owner of the Long Branch Saloon. She had broken through much of the lawman's reserve. He noticed that Dillon stopped by the Long Branch a little more frequently than the other saloons. He would often sit at a table at the back of the room, talking to her. There was always a clear space between them and he had never seen them hold hands or show any affection there in the saloon or on Front Street. He had seen them eating together in Delmonico's and sometimes joined them there, but again there was no outward show of anything more than a fond friendship between two people who enjoyed each other's company. Of course he knew better. He had seen the connection between them starting from the time Kitty Russell had arrived in town. He had seen the fear and caring in Kitty's eyes after Matt Dillon had been shot right here on Front Street not long after she arrived.

Adams had got to know the young marshal pretty well in those first few months. He had spent more than a week getting him back on his feet after that episode with Dan Grat, and as he had thought to himself at the time, you can't go digging around inside someone's body with a probe and a scalpel, then work to save their life twenty-four hours a day for over a week, and not get to know them at least a little. Of course Matt Dillon was not an easy man to get to know.

At first he had thought it was pride that drove him on to face Grat a second time, but he was wrong. It took him a while to figure out that Dillon really believed in the badge he wore. He knew he was helping to bring law and order to the West and in doing so was saving lives of innocent people. In reality Dillon looked on it as a duty that had been thrust upon him and he would accept the burden willingly even if it wasn't really what he would have chosen.

Adams had reached the heavy wooden door to the marshal's office and hesitated mid-stride as if trying to make up his mind. At last he opened it and walked through. The marshal was packing a few supplies into a well-worn saddle bag.

"So you're leaving town?"

"I'll be back tomorrow afternoon, Doc, just a shot trip to Cimarron to collect a prisoner the sheriff is holding in the jail there. Figured if I left now I'd get there before dark."

Doc didn't say much. This was probably the last time he would see his friend, the man who had been so ready to lay down his life for him in Jed Butler's cabin. It wasn't easy, but he knew what he had to do.

"Well,... just be careful Matt." He wanted to shake hands or at least say he felt it had been a privilege to know him, but knew he couldn't do that. He passed his hand over his face as Dillon hefted the saddle bags onto his shoulder and started towards the door.

"Guess I'll see you later Doc."  
Doc didn't say anything, he just watched the tall lawman head towards the stable.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Home is Where the Heart Is**

Chapter 3.

As he climbed the steps to his office Doc couldn't help but think he wouldn't be doing this many more times. The late stage to Hays only ran twice a week, and with Matt out of town this would be his best opportunity to leave unnoticed.

He had few possessions to take with him. Of course his black bag and a few instruments, but most of the equipment he would leave for Alan Sutherland who should arrive any day now. He packed his meager wardrobe into a small, faded carpet bag and left it behind the bedroom door, all ready for tonight.

There were still several hours to go. He decided to go by the Long Branch, a stiff drink might be just the thing to help him on his way, and of course he wanted to see Kitty Russell - one last time- so many last times. A new life in a new city was a thrilling prospect, but breaking old ties was a painful process. If he hadn't been so sure of the necessity of what he was doing he would have gone back and unpacked his bag.

ooo000ooo

It was only a short distance from the bottom of the steps leading to his office to the entrance to the Long Branch Saloon, but each one of them seemed like a mile. He thought it had been difficult to walk into the marshal's office, but walking into the saloon was ten times harder.

Kitty looked up as he entered and greeted him with her usual warm smile and sparkling eyes. "Come on in and sit down, Doc. Can I get you a drink?"

Her hand fell lightly on his arm as she steered him towards the familiar table that somehow remained vacant for the part owner and her close friends. Adams knew that the lawman would not be here tonight so he had the beautiful redhead to himself.

"Come on Doc, what's troubling you?" She had returned to the table after taking a tray of beers to where a group of poker players were involved in a high stakes game, and noticed that he had hardly touched his drink.

"That's the good stuff, not the cheap mess we serve to the Texans," she quietly assured him with a laugh.

"Oh I was just thinking." He tried to raise a smile and swiped his grey mustache. He looked around the smoke filled saloon taking in the smell of stale bear and human bodies. It really was a rough place. No decent woman belonged here, but Kitty Russell managed to survive and rise above it all. He looked carefully at her trying to fix her image in his mind. This lady - for that is how he saw her - had become very close to him. Oh not as a lover, there was nothing like that between them. He could hardly describe how he felt about her. Maybe she was the daughter he never had. Whatever it was, she was somebody special. Whatever else he missed about Dodge, she would always top the list.

He knew he couldn't tell her what he was planning, or even why. There was no way he could contact her - or anyone else in Dodge - once he left. Well, not for a long while anyway - it would be too painful for him. But he was saving a life, Matt Dillon's life, and that was the most important thing.

He managed to talk with her for a while but suddenly swallowed the reminder of his drink and got to his feet.

"I have to be going now Kitty."  
She figured he had some early morning calls to make and didn't try to persuade him to stay.

"I'll see you later then." She smiled and watched him, trying to understand the strange look on his face.

He patted her hand. "I'll be fine Kitty," he said, then he turned and walked away, slowly at first, but quickened his pace once he had passed through the swing doors.

Kitty thought, at the time, that it was an unusual reply, but then Doc had seemed distracted. Maybe he had a sick patient he was worried about. She might have thought more about it, but one of the players at the Faro table called to her again.

"Miss Kitty, we could sure do with a new bottle here!"  
She laughed to herself, what kind of business had she got herself into,

"I'll be right with you Manny," she called and went behind the bar to find a bottle of the regular whisky they served at the Long Branch.

ooo000ooo

Adams had returned to his office to collect his bag. He glanced around at the place that had been his home and office for the last few years, noting the glass medicine cabinets he had ordered from some pharmaceutical company two or maybe three years ago now. Then he looked at the examination table with its tough leather surface. He had done countless surgeries there, some successful and some that weren't. It had been a rough place at times but overall one where he felt needed. Now it was time to move on. He gathered his carpet bag in one hand and medical bag in the other, closed the door on the scene and without looking back made his way carefully down the stairs.

The late stage always pulled in at the rear of the depot because the front office was closed. Adams knew that Chester often hung around to watch the stages come in, but he was also aware that the marshal's assistant usually skipped the night arrivals. He knew that somehow he had to get to Hays and board that train before anyone realized he had left Dodge. Even then Matt Dillon might have enough influence to stop the train, but if his luck held he would be halfway to California before anyone figured out his destination.

Fortunately the driver was unfamiliar to him. Doc had purposely not bought a ticket earlier, he waited till the fresh team had been harnessed then handed the fare to the driver explaining that it was a last minute decision to travel to Hays. The man didn't suspect anything out of the ordinary and took the carpet bag and tied it on the roof. It was another 15 minutes before the stage pulled out of Dodge City and Doc was hoping no one else would board, he didn't want anyone to see him leave town and he certainly didn't want to make conversation.

After the stresses of the day, Doc found the swaying of the coach soporific. He was aware that they had stopped several times to change horses, but never fully awoke. At one stop another passenger joined the stage but after a few attempts at conversation he had given up the effort and lapsed into a half sleep also.

The road between Dodge City and Hays was well travelled and the stages could make good time, even so it would probably take more than twenty-four hours to reach his destination.

ooo000ooo

The train depot in Hays was not far from the stage office, and Doc had time to board without hurrying. He even found time to eat a light breakfast. As he absent-mindedly raised a coffee cup to his lips, his mind he was going through a strange mix of emotions. Excitement at experiencing a new phase in his life and career, meeting new people and seeing new places, but then there was also a deep sense of loss. Galen Adams had just walked out on the closest thing to family that he had ever experienced, and the fact that he had done it to save a friend's life didn't make it any easier.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Home is Where the Heart Is**

Chapter 4

Dillon rode back into town just before noon. The trip had been an easy one, and the prisoner had given him no trouble. He went straight to the office and handed Jed Lunsford over to Chester along with his own Winchester and canteen. Lunsford was a meek little man who seemed unlikely to have committed all the crimes charged against him. It worried him somewhat because the man seemed so quiet. He had hardly said a dozen words on the entire trip back to Dodge. Perhaps he should get Doc to take a look at him just in case he was sick. He didn't like the thought of the old man dying back there in a cell if there was something medically wrong with him.

He figured if he took the buckskin and Lunsford's horse to the livery himself, he could stop by the Long Branch on the way back and drown that trail dust in his throat with a glass of beer. When he delivered the horses to the stable he noticed that Doc's buggy was parked in its usual place out back, so he figured the physician must be around town somewhere. He would probably run into him before too long.

By now he was looking forward to that beer, even so he took time to look over the batwing doors before entering the Long Branch. Somehow Kitty Russell must have sensed him standing there because she looked up and he saw her face break into a welcoming smile.

"You made good time," she commented quietly as he approached the bar.

"Yes, it was an easy trip. The prisoner never gave me any trouble." That reminded him. "Has Doc been around? I kinda want him to take a look at the old man in case he is sick or something."

"I haven't seen him today," she replied. Matt was always concerned about people - even prisoners. "I'm sure he'll be in after a while to see if there's any food left from lunch."

They stood talking quietly at the bar while the marshal downed a beer.

"I need to go check on things at the office," he said just after taking the last swallow. "I'll stop by later, maybe we can go for supper."

"I'd like that."

"If Doc comes by, ask him to stop by the jail. The sheriff from Wichita will be coming in on tomorrow morning's train to collect Lunsford, so he needs to be quick."

Dillon turned towards the doors leading to the street, and she watched him leave, grateful that he came back from yet another out-of-town trip unscathed. She stood thinking for a moment then walked behind the bar to help Clem clean up plates and glasses from lunch.

ooo000ooo

The afternoon stage from St. Louis came in on time for once. Chester, as usual, was hanging around the depot to watch it arrive. To him it was always an exciting experience to see the coach drive in knowing that it had come from such faraway places as New Orleans, Pueblo - or like this one - St. Louis. He could only imagine what those big towns with exciting sounding names were really like. The stage office was likely to be as close as he would get to any of them.

Four people descended from the coach and the driver climbed onto the roof to hand them their bags. "Everything all right, Slim?" he called to the driver.

"Sure, no problems on this run," the blond-headed man called back to him.  
Chester turned his attention to the passengers, after all, he had told himself many times, it was part of his job to watch who arrived in town so he could tell Mr. Dillon if there was anyone he recognized from wanted posters, or maybe a gunslinger or gambler that his boss needed to be aware of.

This group of folks looked pretty innocent. He recognized a couple returning home to Dodge from visiting relatives in St. Louis, and then there was a young lady who was met by a man he recognized as being a rancher from outside of town.

The last passenger was different. He stood glancing up and down the street while waiting for his bag to be thrown down from the roof of the stage. Chester noticed he was holding a black medical bag, much like the one Doc carried. The man was younger than Doc - probably by at least ten years. He had dark, straight hair cut fairly short and was clean shaven. Quickly the newcomer placed a well worn Derby hat on his head so his hand was free to catch the bag that Slim threw down to him.

The man stood there for a moment and Chester, driven as much by curiosity as politeness, walked towards him.

"Can I help you?" he drawled, watching as the stranger continued to look up and down the street.

"Maybe you can." Chester was standing close to the man now and could see that his eyes were red - probably from the trail dust kicked up by the stage. "I need to go to the marshal's office."

"That's easy, it's just down the street a ways. I'll take yea there. You here on business?" Still curious Chester started towards the jail and the man came along with him.

"Dr. Adams asked me to come."

"Oh, yer a friend of Doc's are yea? Coming to visit?"

"Not exactly. He told me the marshal had a spare key to his office so I could let myself in."

Chester was a little puzzled, but dutifully opened the door to the jail and ushered the man inside. Dillon looked up from a report he was writing as the door opened.

"Mr. Dillon, this here's a friend of Doc's."

The newcomer reached out his hand towards Dillon who was rising from his seat behind the desk.

"Dr. Alan Sutherland," he introduced himself. "As I explained to your friend here, Dr. Adams asked me to come."

"Oh you've come to visit?" Matt thought he had the situation figured out, but the man's next sentence almost floored him.

"No, he has asked me to take over his practice." Matt stood in shocked silence for a minute or two.

"You mean he's planning to take you on as an assistant?"

"No, he wrote to me and asked me to come and take over his practice because he was leaving town. He told me there was a spare key to his office in your safe. Here," the man put down his medical bag and started delving into his inside jacket pocket. He produced a crumpled envelope and handed it to Dillon, "This is the letter he sent."

The writing was certainly in Doc's hand. Matt read the letter. All in all it didn't say much, just that he was planning to leave town and thought this man would find it an ideal place to restart his practice.

He looked at the stranger in front of him. What on earth was going on? Doc was still around town somewhere. He would find him and see what all this nonsense was about.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Home is Where the Heart Is**

Chapter 5

Matt had let Sutherland into Doc's office. He'd looked around to find any clue as to what was going on. Everything looked completely normal - except for the fact that things may have been a little tidier than usual. He left and, deep in thought, found himself looking over the doors into the Long Branch Saloon. Kitty Russell always knew what was going on in Dodge City. Often he would come and talk to her if he was looking for information on someone or something. It never ceased to amaze him how much business, both good and bad, took place in front of that long, oak bar. Kitty seemed to absorb all the comments and details she heard, never repeating them unless he came asking.

She looked up almost by instinct as the familiar head and shoulders appeared above the batwing doors. She smiled as he entered, then signaled Fred to pull a couple of beers which she carried to the familiar table that had become their usual meeting place. He sat, keeping a respectful distance from the charming part-owner of the saloon, and removed his hat setting it on the chair next to him.

"Something's puzzling you Matt?" It was a little un-nerving that she could read him so easily.

He shook his head and grasped the handle of the beer mug before answering.

"There's a new Doctor just arrived on the afternoon stage. Says he's here to take over Doc's practice."

Kitty sat there looking at him for a moment, not able to think of anything to say.

"Did he say anything to you that might tell us why he's leaving and where he's going?"

Kitty shook her head, "No Matt he never said a word to me about leaving town."

"If we had an idea of why, we would have something to go on."

A conversation she had had with Doc a few weeks ago came back to her mind. It was not much and may not even have anything to do with the doctor's sudden departure.

"Matt, I am not sure this is relevant, but…" she stopped to think, trying to remember exactly what the physician had said.

Matt looked at her, "Go on,"

"Well," she sat there looking thoughtful for a moment trying to recall the conversation, "it was after you arrested Jed Butler. Doc sat right there where you're sitting. He was not himself somehow. I thought he was tired or had lost a patient. You know how he gets. I could see that something was troubling him. Eventually he told me about you risking your life to save his. That seemed to upset him. He said he could never forgive himself if things had ended badly that day."

Matt almost laughed. "Doc knows me better than that. I had it all figured out before I even walked into that cabin."

Kitty doubted that was quite true but never knew all of what had taken place that day. She did know Matt Dillon well, though, and he would certainly have been willing to give his life under the circumstances. Of course he would never admit that to anyone - probably not even to himself. But it was something that had deeply troubled Doc.

"I think it really did worry him, Matt. He couldn't accept the idea that he could indirectly be responsible for getting you killed."

Matt lifted his beer mug and took a long swallow. "It's a risk that goes with job Kitty, you know that. Neither Doc nor anyone else can change the way it is. He understands that."

"I don't think Doc saw it that way." Kitty was serious now, the more she thought about it the more sense it made. Doc had really changed after that day. She hadn't thought much about it at the time, but now looking back she could see it.

Dillon had finished his beer. "I need to find out if he really left. His buggy is still here and I'm sure he didn't ride out on horseback." He stood up and gathered his hat from the chair. "I'm going to take a look around."

"Let me know if you find anything," she called after him as he headed for the street.

Dillon was still not convinced that Doc had left town. If he could find him before he made such a drastic move, he would talk him out of it somehow.

ooo000ooo

Further along Front Street, in the marshal's office, Chester had been trying to tidy the place up some. Mr. Dillon's desk was covered with the most recent pile of unopened mail and an ever growing stack of wanted posters. The stove had begun to smoke pretty badly earlier that morning and there was a fine layer of soot covering everything. It was going to take a major clean-up to set things to rights, and Chester wasn't in the mood for that right now. He was worried about Doc, though of course he wouldn't admit it to anyone but himself. He knew Mr. Dillon and Miss Kitty were worried too, and that meant it was as serious as anything could get. The door opened and before turning round he knew it was his boss. When Mr. Dillon entered a room you could feel his presence. You didn't have to turn around to look.

"You found anything, Mr. Dillon?" he asked.

" No, Chester, nothing, but I do know that Doc isn't anywhere in town. I want you to go down to the Santa Fe and talk to Roy. Find out if Doc bought a ticket in the last week or so, and if he did see where he was going?"

Chester always felt important when Mr. Dillon sent him on an errand like this. It meant he trusted him to not mess it up. He had to admit there had been a time or two when things had gone a little wrong, but the marshal never seemed to blame him for it. He would just pick up the pieces and make the best of it. This time it was not possible to confuse the details, the clerk had not seen Doc in months and was certain he had not boarded a train from Dodge in either direction.

After Chester returned from the depot office, Matt concluded the only way Doc could have left town, provided that he went voluntarily and without outside help, was on the Overland Stage. He had already been by the stage office and was told that Doc had not been near the place, but he had another idea. There were night stages that arrived after the office was closed. One ran west to Pueblo and the other north to Hays. Two of the drivers were regulars. He had already talked with them and come up empty handed, but he did learn that there were times, especially on the relatively short run to Hays, that substitute drivers were used. He also knew that, at night, passengers could buy their tickets as they boarded the stage. The late night stage to Pueblo ran on Tuesdays but that to Hays ran twice a week - and on one of those days, he had been out of town. He thought he had figured out how Doc had left town, but he still had no idea why or where he was headed. Once in Hays there were many options open to someone who just wanted to travel.

ooo000ooo

The town was quiet that night and as he often did, Matt found himself making the Long Branch his final stop. He looked over the swing doors and saw the new doctor leaning against the bar talking to Kitty. The redhead glanced towards him and gave that welcoming smile that always made him feel like he had just come home. He was not surprised when Sutherland turned his head to follow her gaze. The man hastily swallowed the contents of the shot glass he was holding, before speaking. "Good evening, Marshal." His words were a little slurred and Matt had the suspicion that the man had been steadily working his way through a now almost empty whisky bottle sitting on the bar in front of him.

"Doctor." Matt returned, finding it difficult to get the word out. Fortunately the newcomer did not seem to notice. He drained the last of the liquid from the bottle into his glass and downed it in one swallow.

"I will bid you all a good night," he managed to utter with all the formality he could muster and somewhat unsteadily made his way out to Front Street.

Matt looked to Kitty with a question written all over his face.

"I just hope no one needs his services tonight," he muttered.

Without asking, Kitty had already drawn two beers and was heading towards the table at the back of the room where maybe they could find a little privacy. Matt looked around the saloon to make sure there were no strange faces present before he joined her. The late hour meant that most of the customers had already departed for their homes or at least to the places where they planned to sleep that night. Only two or three hard core drinkers remained, and Kitty knew that Red, the evening barkeep, would soon have them moving on their way so he could clean up and go home himself.

Kitty placed the beer mugs on the table. At this time of night, she knew Matt liked to sit facing the street so that he could watch the batwing doors just in case any last minute arrival came looking for trouble.

"I don't really think he wants to be here," Kitty said quietly, referring to Sutherland, as she sat down at the table. Matt sat next to her, keeping a respectable distance, since after all, there were still a few people wandering around town even at this hour.

"Then why did he come?"

"Doc apparently asked him to, and as an old friend he didn't want to turn him down."

Their conversation continued in subdued tones while Red ushered the last of the hangers-on out into the street then firmly closed and locked the main doors for the night. At last he had finished cleaning and was ready to leave. Kitty went to let him out the back door and lockup behind him, while Matt carried the two, now empty, beer mugs to the bar and set them in the sink. It had all become quite a routine. If he knew that Doc was up there in his office, everything would be right with the world. But now something was wrong, a man whose presence, he had to admit, he had sometimes taken for granted, was no longer around.

Kitty was coming towards him now, with a soft encouraging smile on her lips. When she got close enough he placed a surprisingly gentle hand in the small of her back, and as they did on many evenings they made their way, side by side, to the back door so she could let him out. Before leaving he turned and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. No words were exchanged but each knew that they shared the same worry of their missing friend. He gave a gentle squeeze to her hand before turning to leave. He wanted to tell her not to worry, he would find Doc and bring him home, but maybe he couldn't keep a promise like that.

"Be careful Matt," she called after him as he headed off into the darkness to make his late night rounds.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Home is Where the Heart Is**

Chapter 6

Doc had been in San Francisco for about two weeks and was beginning to feel almost at home. Almost was the word where he placed most emphasis when he ran that sentence through his head.

He had quite enjoyed the train journey, which, surprisingly enough, had gone smoothly. In spite of all the distance travelled, he had arrived at Oakland Station just one hour later than expected. He remembered the excitement he felt as he stepped out of the carriage onto the platform - a new place, new people, even the air had a different smell.

As promised Ben Williams had been there to meet him, and it took very little time for the two old friends to renew their acquaintance. A short ferry ride had taken them across the bay to San Francisco, and Adams had felt a thrill at the whole new environment. It had been a long time since he had seen an ocean. The bend in the Arkansas River was as close as he had come to any kind of open water in its natural state for many years. He had forgotten how a big city attracted so many people. Different types of people from many different backgrounds and countries, especially here since San Francisco was a port for ships from all over the world. Williams warned him to stay away from the docks area called the Barbary Coast - "alive with pirates and prostitutes" had been his dramatic description. From the distance Adams could see a great variety of ships, some driven by magnificent sails and others by more reliable but less romantic steam. He was also warned to stay away from Chinatown - "full of thieves and opium" was the description this time. Adams couldn't help but wonder what description Ben would apply to Dodge City.

The office they were working out of was situated behind Telegraph Hill on Filbert Street. Williams had arranged a small set of rooms for Adams at a nearby boarding house. For Doc, who had been used to living and working from his office for many years now, this seemed to be quite an extravagance. The boarding house was run by two spinster sisters, Dorothy and Elisa Betts. They had a total of four sets of rooms rented out to professional gentlemen. Adams suite consisted of a small sitting room which opened directly off of the main hallway, and a bedroom which led off of it to the right of the main door. It was tastefully furnished with two big leather armchairs, a desk and a table in the living room. A large iron bed with a comfortable mattress took up much of the bedroom. What little space remained was limited by an oversized wardrobe, where Adams hung his one halfway decent suit. A pair of smaller chairs placed either side of the only window completed the furnishings. Linens and towels were all provided and would be changed weekly according to the Misses Betts. Any laundry he needed done would be collected at the same time. It all seemed to be an admirable arrangement.

Earlier in the week he had spent an enjoyable evening at the California Theatre on Bush Street. He had accompanied Ben Williams and his wife to a production by a visiting Italian Opera Company. He was fascinated by the spectacle, the performers, the music, and not least of all by the people who had come to watch. Obviously they were all quite affluent. Gentlemen with top hats and silver topped canes escorting young ladies dressed in the height of fashion. Some of them where even beautiful, but when he looked more closely there were none that had the beauty or strength of character of Kitty Russell. He thought about the young saloon girl who had arrived in Dodge a year or more ago and had now worked her way up to being part owner.

Today he had worked in the clinic and got the first hint that all was not as he would have liked. He had mostly seen middle aged ladies with not much wrong except a discontent with their husbands and a few imaginary complaints. One young woman about six months pregnant had come by because she had had a little bleeding. As far as he could tell the baby was fine, he could hear the heart beat loud and clear. She herself seemed in good health - much better than most of the women from the prairie who spent long hours trying to eke a living from the unforgiving landscape and even then got barely enough to eat. He had told her to go home and stay in bed for a few days.

The most exciting thing he had seen was an elderly man who worked at one of the nearby liveries. He had managed to step on a rusty nail and it had gone through his boot into his foot. Adams had carefully removed the nail and cleaned the wound. He told the man to come by the next day so he could check it for infection. The man was very grateful but admitted he had no money to pay for the visit. To Adams that was not unusual and he brushed it off, telling him not to worry. Later Ben Williams had come to him explaining that they could not afford to run this clinic if they took patients who couldn't pay. Once it got around that they gave free medical care, their doorstep would be crowded. Doc wondered what had happened to Ben. When they had worked together shortly after completing medical school they never thought too much about collecting money. Of course they had to live and buy supplies, but there were enough patients who could afford to pay - they had never turned anyone away. It seemed that things had changed.

Adams sat at the oak desk in his rooms - no roll top like the one he had - or had had - in Dodge, and pulled from his pocket a single sheet of paper with a synopsis of the talk he had attended at Toland's Medical School. It had been an interesting evening featuring the presentation of a patient who had an elevated number of white cells in his blood. Microscopes had been available for the gathering of physicians to see prepared slides of the abnormal blood for themselves. It had been an enjoyable and instructive evening but Adams couldn't help but wonder what his fellow physicians would have thought if they knew how his Dodge City practice had been. For a moment or two he missed his old office on Front Street. He wondered how his friends were, and if they missed him. He could picture himself sitting around that table at the back of the Long Branch. He could almost hear Kitty laughing, and then imagined her face break into a smile as Matt Dillon appeared. Matt Dillon - the reason he was here in this exciting city of San Francisco, so much to see and do.

It was almost time for supper. The Betts sisters served excellent meals to their lodgers, much better than anything he had ever eaten at Delmonico's. Even so he had to admit he already missed Chester coming around looking for someone to buy him a meal. He got his watch from his pocket and glanced at the time. Just long enough for a short walk to clear his head before eating.

He hailed a carriage and took it to the top of Telegraph Hill. He had done this several times since he had arrived in the city. The cool steady breeze and view of the endless ocean gave peace and solace to his mind. He still felt as if he did not belong in this place, he wasn't needed here. He had become one of a whole army of physicians, probably most of whom knew a whole lot more medicine that he ever would. They were good doctors but so many he had met did not seem to understand people. They hadn't seen the side of life that he had. They moved in their own circles somewhat removed from the rest of society. In Dodge he had been part of the fabric of the town, and the people he cared for were part of his life. Here there was a big divide. Somehow he had to get used to it and find his own niche. This was, after all, the life he had committed to.

He turned and started back towards Filbert Street and the Misses Betts' boarding house for gentlemen. His route took him along the very edge of Chinatown. As he passed he glanced along the streets decorated with brightly colored lanterns that contrasted so vividly with the state of inhabitants sitting out on the sidewalks. They were poor, many dressed in rags. He saw others, obviously under the influence of opium, just lying there in the filth that lined the gutters. His heart went out to them. These were people he felt more akin to. In those few isolated city blocks he could put his training and experience to use, but not in the way he was practicing now.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Home is Where the Heart Is**

Chapter 7

Matt wasn't sure what had woken him or what time it was. He lay quietly for a while trying to go back to sleep, but that didn't work. It was only the second time he had shared a bed with Kitty Russell. They had both needed comfort after knowing for sure that Doc had left town, and somehow he had found himself back here after making his usual late night inspection of the town. They had tried to bury their sense of loss in a night of passion, but in the end they were both too distressed to do anything but lie close and find peace in the warmth from each other's bodies. Carefully, so as not to disturb her, he lifted the covers and placed his feet on the cold floor. Try as he might he knew she would detect his movements, and as expected she stirred and half opened her eyes.

"Go back to sleep Kitty, I need to go check on something." He spoke quietly, almost a whisper.

She gave a soft grunt and turned over so as to face away from him and the door. He gathered his boots from under the bed and crossed the floor carefully. The squeaky boards sounded as loud as gunfire cracking through the eerie silence that comes just before dawn.

It was still dark outside, although the first fingers of light were trying to break over the eastern end of Front Street. Chester would be sound asleep on that cot in the office, but he knew from experience that it would take a whole lot of commotion to awaken the jailer. He turned the key in the lock and let himself in. Somewhere in his desk was an old schedule of trains of the Union Pacific Railroad that stopped in Hays. He sat down behind the well-worn desk and carefully pulled out the drawer. Chester was still sleeping and an occasional snore vibrated the air. He rummaged through an array of papers and used envelopes until he found what he wanted. Scanning the lines on the crumpled paper he focused on something that confirmed the thought that had been running around in his mind. From Hays it was a fairly direct route to San Francisco. Doc had said he wanted to go there. He had said it several times in fact, but most notably he had said it just before all that incident with Jed Butler. Surely the physician would not have gone there - it was so far away from all his friends. He could hardly believe Kitty's explanation as to why Doc left, on the other hand he couldn't come up with a better alternative.

Later that morning he climbed the stairs to Doc's office - it would always be that in his mind, no matter who's shingle hung there. He figured Sutherland might not be up and around considering the state he was in last night, but the man was there, brewing coffee on the stove as he walked in the door.

"Good morning, Marshal! Is this a professional or a social visit?"

"Neither, I am trying to figure out why Doc left and where he's gone."

Sutherland lifted the coffee pot questioningly and Matt nodded, gratefully accepting the proffered steaming mug. It was one of Doc's mugs that still hung on hooks by the stove.

"You're not happy about my being here?"

Matt considered the question for a moment.

"It's not that. Doc has been a good friend to this town for many years. I just want to know what lead him to up and leave like he did."

Sutherland nodded thoughtfully. "I understand, but there's nothing I can add to what I've told you already."

Matt moved casually to Doc's roll-top desk. He knew that his old friend wasn't particularly tidy, and wondered if he had left anything there to indicate his destination.

"Did Doc leave anything behind?" He was trying not to be too intrusive into this new man's personal space, but he had to know what was going on.

"There's a few journals there," Sutherland conceded. "I haven't had time to clean up yet. Help yourself."

Carefully, trying to respect the current occupant's privacy, Matt turned some of the papers and journals over and looked at them. They meant very little to him, but he flipped through the pages anyway. There was one that was out of place. What was Doc doing with a publication from California? Usually all his medical journals came from back East. He opened it carefully, not really sure what he expected to find. He didn't understand much of it, and was about to close it and leave when something caught his eye - perhaps because it was the only thing on the page that made any sense to him, or perhaps because this particular page had been marked by a turned-down corner. He looked at it again, almost in disbelief.

"Do you mind if I take this?" He was overly conscious of Sutherland watching his every move. Probably quite normal for a newcomer to town who didn't know how things worked here in Dodge City.

"Be my guest." The new doctor waved his hand in the direction of the contents of the desk top. "Most of that isn't mine anyway. I have my own collection of journals and books arriving on the Santa Fe any day now."

A simple thank you was all Dillon gave in reply as he placed his now empty coffee mug back by the stove. Somehow he could not warm to this man, maybe because this was Doc's office and the new man seemed like an intruder. He chided himself for thinking that way. He had no reason to distrust Sutherland, he thought. He left the doctor's office with journal in hand and headed down the stairs. Was the advertisement he had found on the dog-eared page significant or just coincidence? He needed to show it to Kitty. She always seemed to have a sense about such things.

ooo000ooo

Kitty was checking stock and making out an order sheet for the drummer who would be by any day now. She had taken on the responsibility for this chore since becoming part owner. The business of running a successful saloon like the Long Branch was more than just opening the doors and serving drinks. Cowboys were quite particular when it came to the beer and whisky they spent their hard earned money on. Having pretty saloon girls to entertain them was important, but if the alcohol wasn't up to standard, business would rapidly fail.

She looked up briefly as the door to the stockroom opened. She was not surprised to see Matt Dillon standing there looking somewhat apologetic. She held up a hand to ask him to wait a moment while she finished adding a column of figures on the clipboard in front of her. Finally she looked up.

"I'm sorry, Matt, I just had to get that finished. Come in and close the door."

She folded the paper she had been working on and placed it in an envelope.

"You missed breakfast you know."

He smiled apologetically. "Yes, I'm sorry. I had something on my mind and I couldn't sleep. I did find something that I want you to look at for me."

She took the journal he handed her, already opened to the important page. She looked at it not noticing the advertisement at first.

"I can't help you with this Matt, I can't even read half the words."

"No," he said pointing to the part that had caught his attention. "Do you think that is what might have made Doc leave town?'

She read it carefully. "It could be where he went, but like I told you, it's not the reason he left."

"What I mean is, if he's there, I can send him a telegram telling him to come home or else I'm coming to fetch him back where he belongs."

"You can't do that. It's something he has to work out for himself. You can't simply point a gun at him and bring him back to Dodge like you would a prisoner. Doc has a right to live and practice wherever he chooses. I hate that he left town, but I think it was a spur of the moment thing. You need to give him time to think, Matt. It's something like when you ride out on the prairie to get time alone to sort stuff out in your mind - and don't deny it, I know that happens. He can't do that, he has to work this out in his own way, and we have to give him space and time to do it."

Matt left the Long Branch, still with the journal under his arm. He was tempted to ride to Hays and catch the next train west. He could always get a deputy to cover Dodge for a while. But there was truth in what Kitty had said, he couldn't bring his friend back if he didn't want to come. He had to give him time, but he wouldn't give him too much.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**Home is Where the Heart Is**

Chapter 8

Doc was about to hail a carriage to take him back to the boarding house. It would soon be time for supper, and even if he wasn't totally happy in San Francisco, the Misses Betts' cooking was definitely one thing he did appreciate.

He had almost been aware of eyes watching him. A strange awareness that can never be fully explained. He had halfway raised his hand to an approaching cab when a young woman appeared at his side. She was slight in stature and a little shorter than he was. At first he thought she was white, but on looking closer, the shape of her eyes and the color of her skin led him to believe she had oriental ancestry in her blood. When she spoke there was no trace of accent, but something in the way she moved and the way she phrased her words confirmed his suspicion that she was of mixed race.

"You are a doctor." She looked up at him as she spoke. Her words were neither a statement nor a question. He looked inquiringly at her and noted for the first time that her clothes, although ragged, were clearly Chinese in origin.

"That's true young lady, but how do you know me, and why are you talking to me like this?"

"I know you are a doctor because I have seen you up here on the Hill many times, and sometimes I have seen you carrying your medical bag. You come up here often. I think you are not always happy."

That was something of an understatement, he thought, but he was still curious as to why she had stopped him today.

"Suppose you tell me why you stopped me."

She lowered her head, "I need help," she said quietly. "Would you please follow me? It is urgent or else I would not be imposing you."

Doc thought for a moment and pulled on his left ear. He didn't know what this girl wanted or if she meant him harm. Her eyes had something of a desperate look, and so it didn't take him long to make up his mind. He knew he was already bored with the medicine he was practicing here. He missed the excitement of Dodge City and his assortment of poor but, on the whole, hard-working patients who needed his help. Maybe this was crazy, but what danger could one little lady lead him into anyway?"

"I don't have my medical bag with me today." He showed her his empty hands.

"Please come," she said again, bowing her head over her clasped hands. "It is my husband, he needs help."

Doc could never dismiss such a sincere plea and, with only minimal hesitation, complied as she beckoned him to follow.

They walked through narrow streets as the light was beginning to fail. The buildings were made of wood, and most looked to be in worse condition than many of those in the poorer sections of Dodge. They passed men and women lying drunk, or maybe drugged, at the edge of the street, and occasionally he would catch a distinctive whiff emanating from some of the sleaziest looking shacks. In one alley-way he saw a working girl plying her trade with a sailor and quickly turned his head away. Maybe Ben had been right - thieves and prostitutes is what he'd said, as he warned him to stay out of this part of town. Doc didn't worry too much about thieves, he had nothing worth anyone's time to take, and prostitutes, well, he had fear of them either.

By now he knew he wouldn't be able to find his way out of this warren without the help of the young woman he was following. He felt a little unease but still had a curiosity as to who she was and what she wanted him for, and that drove him on.

At last the young woman, whose name he didn't even know, turned to face him. She put her finger to her lips in the universal sign for quiet. She eased open a creaky wooden door and scanned the darkness inside. Apparently satisfied with what she saw - or didn't see - she beckoned him to follow her into the gloom. He really had no option but to do as she said. He could see the outline of 3 bodies lying on the floor. By the stench of stale sweat and vomit together with other bodily excrements, he figured they had been there for a while. He could hear occasional groans and then a scream. She encouraged him not to stop and began climbing what had once been a stairway, but was now a series of decaying wooden boards. What would once have been the handrail had long disappeared except for a few pieces of rotten wood still hanging nailed to sparse upright posts. Carefully, trying to avoid the worst of the gaps in the structure, he followed her through the half-light, up to the second floor where another door awaited. She took a key from somewhere in folds of her tattered dress and he heard the sharp click of the lock followed by the door being opened. A yellow shaft of light came from the room within. She signaled for him to enter.

Although the sparse furnishings in the room were old and well worn, the floor was swept and the bed in the corner was covered with a relatively clean blanket. There was an old leather armchair placed next to the bed. It too was well worn but a small quilt was hanging over its back to disguise its dismal state.

Adams was beginning to wonder why the young woman had brought him here, when a groan emerged from under the bed covers.

"Please Doctor, this is my husband. He needs help," was her simple explanation.

Doc made his way to the bed concerned as to what he was going to find and wondering what he could do about it without any of his instruments.

The man was in obvious pain, his face was covered in bruises, and his nose had been broken. When he pulled back the blanket he could see that the man had been beaten to an extent he had never seen, even in some of Dodge City's wildest days.

Using his hands he examined the man as best he could. He found several broken ribs and possible damage to abdominal organs. The man also had a half healed fracture in his right forearm. On his back there where marks from lashings - some partly healed and others more recent. He had a high fever and looked thin and undernourished. Doc didn't think he had much chance of survival.

He turned back to the young woman. Her eyes pleaded with him.

"You can help?"

Doc wiped his hand over his face and pulled on his ear as he considered the best course of action.

"What's your name?" a simple question.

"I am called Tara-Lee," she replied, hanging her head. He went to her and with a finger lifted her chin so he could see her eyes. There were tears of desperation there.

"Tara-Lee, I will help you but this is not a good place for him to be. He's too sick. He needs to be somewhere warm and clean where I can take care of his wounds and his fever. Even then I can't promise that I can get him through this, but his chances would better than they are here. Besides, I have no medicines with me, there isn't much I can do. Now, what is his name."

He let go of her chin, and she somehow remained looking at his face.

"It may not be good for you to know too much about us."

"Let me handle that possibility. Tell me what's going on here."

She took a breath.

"His name is Petrov. He got involved in the opium trade. He didn't mean to. He needed money and didn't know what he was getting in to. He took to hiding out here in Chinatown thinking they would never find him. I was …working," she averted her eyes in embarrassment, and her voice became almost a whisper. "It is the only way a girl like me can survive, Doctor. It is not the life I would choose. A group of men were trying to take advantage of me." She visibly shivered as the memory crossed her mind. "They overpowered me, and no one came to my aid. Then Petrov walked by the alley and saw what was going on. He fought the men till they all ran away. I was unable to work for many weeks, but Petrov took care of me. He is a good man, Doctor. We loved each other and in a little while we were married."

She paused for a breath or two and turned back to the man on the bed.

"He managed to find odd jobs, and we planned to move to a better part of town, far away from the docks and the filth." She paused and he could see her shoulders heaving with a sob. "They found him and took him away. What you see here is what they did to him. Please, Doctor, he is all I have, he is a good man, make him live."

"We must get him away from here."

Doc wanted to take the man back to the clinic, but knew that that wouldn't work. Maybe a small hotel close by would be better.

"No, if we leave this place they will find him. Here we are safe, no one will find us."

"What about the law? There must be a sheriff or a marshal or someone here who could stop this gang."

She shook her head. "They don't come here. There is a police force, but they will do nothing. They are too frightened of the opium gangs."

Doc knew one lawman who wouldn't back down - but he was more than a thousand miles away from here.

"Listen to me Tara-Lee, there's a few things we can do for your husband tonight, but I must go back to my office and fetch medicines and my instruments so I can better help him. Then I'll try to make him well enough so we can move him. It's the only chance he has of getting over this."

In reality there wasn't much he could tell her do for the man, but he wanted to make her feel useful. He showed her how to clean the worst of his wounds and then found some relatively straight pieces of wood from the old staircase and those, together with strips storm from a tattered old bed sheet, enabled him to make a primitive splint for the damaged arm. It would do until he could apply a cast

ooo000ooo

Once again they were walking through the dimly-lit, vermin ridden streets of the forbidden part of town. Tara-Lee seemed to be able to find her way in the dark, but he did notice that she stopped at every street corner to look around carefully before proceeding. He figured she was worried that someone was following them.

Finally they were back in part of the town he knew well. She stopped and turned to face him.

"You should be able to find a cab just down there." She pointed to where the street lamps burned a little more brightly. "Please be careful and don't tell anyone about me."

Doc agreed to both. He felt guilty leaving her there to go back to the dismal dwelling where she and Petrov somehow survived. He wished Matt Dillon was here. He had no doubt that his marshal friend would be able to resolve this whole situation.

"How will I find you again?"

"Don't worry, just come to The Hill. I will find you."

The carriage took him quickly to the boarding house. He knew he had missed supper, but the Misses Betts took good care of their gentlemen boarders and were used to strange hours, They had left a plate of ham sandwiches in his room. They were covered with a linen cloth decorated with hand-embroidered roses.

One thing he had learned today, there were two very distinct sides to life in San Francisco.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**Home is Where the Heart Is**

Chapter 9

Doctor Alan Sutherland sat at Doctor Adams' desk in Doctor Adams' office. It distressed him that everyone in town seemed to think of this as Adams' practice, not his. He had been in this town for almost two months, his shingle hung by the door, and yet he still he felt like a stranger. He had made rounds on several patients that Adams had left notes on. They had all looked at him with suspicion when he arrived to check on them, and then asked when Dr. Adams would be back. There were two pregnant women, one of whom should have no problem. The other he was little more concerned about. He pulled out the notes left for him, written in Adam's clear ordered hand.

"Mrs Nellie Watson, 32 years old. Miscarried two previous pregnancies one at six weeks and the other at ten weeks. This pregnancy seems normal so far, but keep a close eye."

Similar notes were left on four other patients. Sutherland was a conscientious physician, and knew he had been a good one in the past, and so he made a point to visit each of them in turn since he had arrived in Dodge. These days he was a little nervous as to how good he was. Too much sorrow and too much whisky can be hard on any man. His confidence was not helped by the cool reception he received even though he tried to assure all his predecessor's patients that he would take good care of them.

Sutherland looked through a second short stack of records that Adams had left for him. These were patients he had recently performed surgery on or ones that he saw on a fairly frequent basis. He clearly thought that the man who was taking over, should be informed about them "just in case".

There were records on two elderly ladies, both with heart conditions. He had left careful notes as to what medications he had them on and how they had responded. There was also a carefully written record on one Idris O'Hanlon. Mr O'Hanlon was a 45 year old man with a large family. He had sustained a head injury about two weeks before Adams left town. A horse he was riding had stepped into a gopher hole and gone down on top of him. Adams said the man had suffered a concussion and needed to be checked on fairly regularly for a few weeks.

At the bottom of the stack of folders was one that was a little thicker, and more worn, than the others. The name on it was Mathew Dillon. Sutherland held it hesitantly for a moment. Just thinking about that lawman made him nervous and his hand began to shake. He finally made himself open the file and read, hoping he would never have need of the information inside. He found detailed notes on two surgeries Adams had performed to extract bullets. The first was more than 18 months ago and according to what Adams had written and the diagrams he drew, it was close to a miracle that the man had survived. There was another episode involving broken ribs sustained in a fight with three other men, and then a second bullet removed from the left shoulder followed closely by a bout of ague. Sutherland concluded that the marshal led a charmed existence. Anyone less fortunate would be either dead or retired from the job after that history.

To be honest he knew he was intimidated by the tall lawman. He hadn't got to know him very well in the time he had been in Dodge. At first the man had come by the office fairly frequently, but only because he was trying to figure out where Adams had gone. The only words he had ever spoken to him were questions. How did he know Adams? Where had Adams gone? When was he coming back and so on. To Sutherland it felt like he was a prisoner being interrogated about some crime he had committed. Dillon, like most of the patients he had visited, seemed to regard Sutherland with a deep sense of suspicion.

When he thought about it, the lawman didn't seem to be overly friendly with anyone except Miss Kitty Russell, and of course Doctor G. Adams. Furthermore, he always seemed to be busy, sometimes leaving town for a day or two to escort a prisoner, deliver legal papers or on some other official business. Sutherland wondered how the man survived. He was up and around in the dead of night and on into the small hours of the morning, dealing with drunken cowboys or worse, but most mornings he could be found, up and alert, eating breakfast at Delmonico's. The marshal could barely have time for more than three or four hours sleep out of each twenty-four, yet he always seemed to be awake and watchful during the day.

Sutherland had witnessed a gunfight, right out there on Front Street about a week ago. The street suddenly became deserted as people saw what was about to take place and hurried away for cover. His own heart leapt to his throat as he watched the lawman face a stranger who had ridden into town. He didn't want to have to perform surgery on that man - he extended his hands, palms towards the floor, and spread his fingers. He could see the slight tremor. Worse still he knew the cause, the whisky bottle may offer solace for a while but it had a deleterious effect on the body. Any skills he had once possessed with the scalpel would certainly be compromised now. Oh, he could still deliver a baby or set a broken leg, but delicate surgery would be a problem. Then there was something about the lawman's eyes that made him feel less than adequate. They seemed to look right through him and see all his failings and weaknesses. Goodness knows, he had many of those.

Fortunately for both of them it was the gunslinger who fell to the ground that day. He had never seen any man as fast or as accurate with a gun as Dillon.

Kitty Russell was a woman he would like to get to know better. She had been friendly enough toward him when he first arrived, and he had even sat talking to her on a few occasions in the Long Branch. When the marshal was sitting there he didn't like to interrupt, not only because it seemed like the two people had something between them, but also because the marshal always seemed to look on him with resentment. He had seen Kitty Russell the day of the gunfight. She had been standing behind the doors to the saloon. When the marshal stepped out into the street to face his opponent he had seen her hand fly to her mouth. There was a terrible fear in her eyes which she tried to hide. When it was over she had been one of the first people to go to his side, looking to him for reassurance that all was well.

It wasn't his fault that Adams had left this town, in fact he was thinking of doing the same thing. Maybe he would never be happy anywhere again. He could still see the flames and feel their heat and the horrible realization that there was nothing he could do. He had come home too late after visiting a sick patient. Hilda, his young wife, and their two children; all gone in a blaze of destruction. There was no drink strong enough to erase that picture from his mind. He had wanted to force his way into the house, but friends held him back, it was too late they said. They didn't understand, there had still been time for him to perish there amongst the ashes with those he loved.

He stood up from the desk and went to drag the whisky bottle from the back of the medicine cabinet where it lay hidden. He removed the cork and sucked down a mouthful of the burning liquid. The fire it created in his throat was nothing like the blaze that had taken his family. It didn't even seem to help that much anymore, but he could think of nothing else to do. He felt so alone now. He had given up his practice back east after that terrible night, and for a year or more had just helped different friends with their practices, taking over for a week or two when they needed to get away, usually with their own families. He had tried to pretend that everything was fine, that he had handled the situation, but he knew he would never be over it. He thought maybe moving out here to Dodge City, a place he had never been, would help him forget, but he seemed lonelier here than he had back home. No one knew him or trusted him, and they were all waiting for Adams to return.

Next time he looked down at the bottle it was almost empty. He left it to sit there on the desk, and staggered his way to the bed in the back room. He loosened his tie and laid on the bed drawing the spare pillow towards him trying to feel the presence of his Hilda, but she was not there. He was alone, always alone.

ooo000ooo

Waiting was something Matt Dillon was not very good at. He had been trying to do it for more than two months now and it wasn't getting any easier. Twice he had had to ride out of town on official business, and that did take his thoughts off of the situation for a while, but once he returned his mind went back to Doc.

He was sitting at the table with Kitty at the back of the Long Branch. He kept looking at the empty chair where Doc should have been. Strange that he should worry about him. The physician was quite capable of taking care of himself, but he knew that sometimes Doc's devotion to his patients did lead him into dangerous situations.

He had been staring into his beer for a while now, and Kitty knew exactly what his problem was but was at a loss to think of any way to help.

"Doc has been gone for almost two months," he mumbled without lifting his head.

"I know," was all she could think of offering in way of a reply.

"It's time I did something about it."

"Just exactly what do you think you can do?"

Matt shook his head. He didn't really know but there must be something. Fortunately before he got even deeper into those thoughts, Dr. Sutherland entered the saloon. He walked up to the bar and purchased a bottle of whisky and then with glass in hand turned to face the room. Kitty smiled at him and invited him to join them with a nod of her head.

Matt was not happy at the prospect of sharing the table with this man, but Kitty took a few moments to tell him that Sutherland was lonely, and that he didn't like being here in Dodge too much either.

The man planted his whisky bottle on the table and pulled out a chair.

"Good evening, Miss Russell, Marshal," he said, looking from one to the other of the two people already comfortably seated at the table.

Kitty could tell that Matt was none too happy to have this man join them for one of the rare brief moments they got to spend together. She didn't think it would matter much anyway because if things went as they usually did, Chester would run in at any minute with some urgent problem that needed Matt's immediate attention.

She actually felt sorry for Sutherland. He was a lonely man who, she could tell, had suffered some great loss in his life. She could usually tell when a man took to drink to numb his feelings. There was a look in their eyes that spoke more than words, and Sutherland had that look. He hadn't told her about it yet, but she thought eventually he would.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

**Home is Where the Heart Is**

Chapter 10

Matt thought about it all night. He knew that Kitty had urged him to be patient, but enough was enough. He had torn the advertisement from the journal several weeks ago, and ever since had kept it jammed in his vest pocket. He took it out now, and looked at it for the hundredth time before making up his mind. It was still early in the morning, but he made his way along the board-walk to the telegraph office. He knew the clerk would be there already, and pushed the door open, which made the small bell attached to it ring.

"Good morning, Marshal." The man's eyes looked up briefly from his work, but his fingers continued to tap out a message on the key. "I'll be with you in a minute."

Matt took one of the green forms from the counter, and wrote his message. It would be short and simple, something Doc could not help but read. He fiddled with the pencil for a while then wrote seven simple words. He handed it to the clerk. "Send this to Doctor Adams at this address." He handed him the now crumpled clipping. "Just sign it Matt."

He dropped some coins on the clerk's desk, and, not feeling like answering a lot of questions, left as suddenly as he had arrived.

By the time Charlie got around to sending the message, he had forgotten Dillon's request, and signed it Matt Dillon United States Marshal - just as he usually did. He thought the whole thing a little strange, but life as a telegraph operator often didn't make a lot of sense. Too many short disconnected messages. He never knew what was going on. He only ever got half - or maybe less - of the story.

ooo000ooo

Adams took the short walk from the boarding house to his office. His mind was on the young woman and her husband he had met yesterday. He knew his colleagues would avoid having anything to do with such people, but Adams couldn't help that. He knew what he had to do.

He had four or five patients waiting to be seen that morning. None of them had anything seriously wrong with them, but they all had the ability to pay. After the last patient had left he began to gather supplies that he would need to tend Petrov. He had just about stuffed the last of the bandages into his medical bag when the woman who served as a receptionist and nurse knocked on the door and entered.

"Dr. Adams, a telegram came for you."

She seemed to want to hang around to find what was going on, but he shooed her from the room saying it was probably nothing important - just a few words from a friend maybe. Once he was alone again he turned the envelope over in his hands. He had some kind of premonition about where it had come from. He removed the faded green paper and read the message.

It was from Dodge City, Kansas, and was signed Matt Dillon, United States Marshal, The message was short and simple.

"It's time for you to come home."

Adams couldn't agree more, but he had come out here for a reason, and that hadn't changed. He crumpled the telegram and threw it onto his desk in frustration as he left the room. He needed to hurry to Telegraph Hill and meet with Tara-Lee. Petrov needed his attention. He had no time to think about Dodge City now.

Telegraph Hill seemed strangely quiet as he stepped down from the carriage he had taken from the surgery. With black bag in hand he walked to the bench from where he could sit and look out across the bay. He hadn't been there long when she appeared as if out of nowhere.

"We have to be careful," she half whispered, "I think they are on to me."

Doc had never been afraid of anyone. He had no concept of the culture in Chinatown, and the things that went on there.

"Who are 'they'?" he asked

"The people who bring the opium here. Petrov stole from them, and they do not forget."

Still, Adams was not too impressed. "Let's get going, I have some medicine for him in here," he indicated his bag.

Carefully she led him through the same narrow dirty streets of Chinatown, stopping at almost every corner to see if they were being followed. Eventually they came to the ramshackle building he remembered from his previous visit. She ushered him inside, and they picked their way through the bodies lying on the floor of the opium den to get to the decrepit stairway. She put a hand on his arm and stopped to listen. He could hear loud voices coming from the street but they were speaking Chinese and he couldn't understand.

"They are coming this way, we must hurry!" Her voice and her eyes showed that she was terrified.

Adams climbed the derelict stairway as fast as was possible while trying to miss the more rotten or absent boards.

Tara-Lee unlocked the wooden door and let them in to the hidden room. The man lay where Adams had left him the evening before. He still looked fevered and pale.

Tara-Lee went to the window, which consisted of broken glass covered by a piece of sack cloth. She clenched her hands to the sill as she saw them coming along the street outside.

"We have no time, they will kill us all," she moaned as she ran to the cot where Petrov lay. She grabbed his hand and looked lovingly at him.

Adams decided it was time for him to take charge.

"You hide," he told her, "I'll deal with this."

He really didn't take her fears all that seriously. After all this was San Francisco, a civilized city, not a wild lawless town like Dodge.

She hesitated. "You go and hide," he repeated.

The men from outside were in front of the building next door now. They seemed uncertain as to Tara- Lee's exact hiding place. They hadn't entered the room downstairs yet, but they were still blocking the only exit. The three of them were trapped.

"There is nowhere to hide in here," she cried in desperation. Adams looked around the almost bare room and had to agree with her. He opened the door a little and could still hear the men outside. He beckoned to her. "Come here and hide yourself under the stairway."

She had no time to think, and obediently slipped out through the door. There were enough gaps in the stairs that she could easily find a place to conceal her slight body if she was careful.

Adams went back to check on Petrov. He had hardly started to remove the temporary dressings he had applied the evening before, when he heard loud voices and hurried stomping footsteps in the den below. A short while later he heard them negotiating the derelict stairway, then, all of a sudden, the door to the small room burst open, and five men poured in. They were dressed in western city clothes, but their faces were Chinese. One of them stepped forward.

"Who are you?" he waved a gun at Adams.

"My name's Doctor Adams." Doc's voice was calm and matter of fact. "I'm here to treat this man." He stood up from the chair he had placed near the cot.

"He doesn't need your medicine."

Doc looked the man straight in the eyes.

"I think my judgement is better than yours on that subject."

The man smiled, it was more of a sneer than a smile. He moved closer to Doc and tried to intimidate him.

"Step out of the way now. The man is coming with us."

Doc had no qualms in moving to place himself between the Chinese man and his patient.

"He shouldn't be moved," he declared in a firm voice.

The Chinese man pushed him out of the way, and signaled to his men to drag Petrov from his cot. Then he stopped and looked around the room.

"Where is the girl?" He directed the question to Doc, again waving a gun in his direction.

Doc heard groans from Petrov as the group of men hauled him roughly towards the door.

"What girl?" Doc asked.

The man looked at him for a moment then slapped him across the face.

"Bring him along too," he ordered his men.

Before Doc could do anything about it he was hauled from the room and pushed roughly down the stairs. He almost fell at the last step. He hoped the distraction would prevent Tara-Lee from being found.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

**Home is Where the Heart Is**

Chapter 11

Tara-Lee was huddled back in a corner beneath what remained of the stairway. She heard voices from the room above and, unlike Adams, spoke enough Chinese to understand the intentions of Liu Xiang's gang. Things didn't look good for Petrov or the kindly doctor. She wanted to cry but held back on the tears. It was time to find help although she didn't know who would be willing to come to her aid, or even who to ask. No one would care to do anything much for Petrov, but the doctor, that was another matter. He must have friends and be important enough that someone would want to save his life.

She waited until she thought at least an hour had passed. She was hidden and alone except for the mumblings and occasional screams coming from the poor fools in the opium den below. Carefully she left her hiding place and went back up to the room where she had kept her beloved Petrov hidden. At first she almost gave way to despair, but something caught her eye - the black medical bag belonging to the doctor. It had his name on the outside in small gold letters, Dr. G. Adams. Methodically she removed the bandages and two bottles of medicine she found inside. There were a few metal instruments at the bottom of the bag and, tucked away beneath them she found a small card, a calling card. It had the names of three doctors listed on it. Adams was one of them, and there was an address that wastn't too far away. She had no money for a carriage but there was nothing to prevent her from walking.

She took an old shawl from behind the door and from a dresser drawer pulled an ancient looking hat, which had belonged to her mother. Carefully arranging the hat to hide most of her face and the shawl to hide the black bag she carried tucked under her arm, she made her way down the creaking stairway and through to the door that led out to the street. She looked around carefully, then shuffling her feet and rounding her shoulders as if she was just another customer from the opium den, she headed towards Telegraph Hill. From there she would turn left onto Filbert Street and find the house number that was written on the card she held clutched in her hand. It would take her more than an hour to walk the distance, and maybe no one would listen to her when she got there, but this was her last and only hope.

ooo000ooo

It had been a hectic day for Matt Dillon. Every lawless drifter and buffalo hunter seemed to choose today to come to town. Added to that was the fact that he had to ride out to Fort Dodge to meet some new army major, who was apparently a distant relative of the governor. There just didn't seem to be enough hours in the day to take care of everything. He had planned on visiting the Long Branch for a cool beer after his short ride back to town, but even that didn't work out. Chester met him outside the jail as he rode up. As often happened the man was agitated, hopping from foot to foot, and obviously relieved when he saw the marshal approaching.

"Mr. Dillon, I'm so glad you're back. There's a man over at the Texas Trail who's lookin' for yer. He looks like a gunslinger to me. Says he's gonna shoot the place up if yer don't come soon."

For Dillon this wasn't an unusual situation. Lots of men came to town with the intention of killing him. Sometimes he could talk them out of it, but more often than not, it ended up as a shoot-out in the middle of Front Street.

"Did he say what his name was?" Matt got down from his horse. He hoisted his rifle from its scabbard and the canteen from the saddle horn. Chester stepped forward and took hold of the reins.

"No, Sir. He said you'd know him when you saw him."

Matt nodded thoughtfully.

"Oh don't you worry none about yer horse, Mr. Dillon, I'll take him along to Moss."

"Thanks, Chester."

Matt smiled absently to himself and opened the door that led into his office. So there was yet another man waiting to become famous by drawing against him. He hated the idea of killing, but sometimes it was a situation he couldn't avoid.

He dropped his saddle bag onto the table and locked the rifle he was carrying back into its place in the rack. Reluctantly he went to his desk and got rags and oil from the drawer. He needed to make sure his gun was clean and ready for use after all the riding he had done that day.

He had just about finished reloading his Colt 45, when Chester returned. The assistant watched as his boss spun the gun a time or two to judge its balance, then checked its fit in the holster. Apparently satisfied he lifted his hat from the peg by the door.

"You want me to bring a rifle and follow yer, Mr. Dillon?"

Matt couldn't help but smile at Chester's loyalty but at the same time he had to protect him.

"No, you just stay out of the way in case it comes to anything."

"Yessir," were the last words he heard before closing the door and heading across the dusty street to the Texas Trail, probably the cheapest and roughest saloon in town. They served flat beer and watered down whisky. It was packed with men who had probably forgotten the last time they took a bath - so maybe it was just as well that thick smoke from cheap cigars hung in the air.

Most of the men stepped to the side to clear a path as the tall lawman made his way to the bar, but one man - probably not far out of his teens - stepped forward.

"I've been waiting all day for you." As the boy spoke his hand dropped towards the six gun he carried low on his hip as if trying to give the impression that he was a gunslinger to be feared.

"Suppose you tell me what this is all about, son." Matt spoke in a low voice, trying to get the young man to listen to him. Talking was better than killing any day, and it might save him from having to kill this man.

"Don't call me son! I'm a man, and I'm fast with his gun." The stranger stopped to take a step closer before continuing. He got face to face with Dillon, trying to impress. "Many people say I'm faster than you and I'm here to prove it."

Matt knew there were hundreds of people out there who would like to see him gone from Dodge for some reason or another. One or two of them must have stirred this boy up to think he had a chance in a gunfight.

"Let's go outside then," Matt said in a calm tone, "no sense in shooting up the bar and hurting these other men."

The boy listened and agreed. Matt was hoping that the walk outside would give his would-be opponent time to re-think the situation.

"What's your name?" he asked as they passed through the doorway and onto the street. "That way I can put a marker for you up there on Boot Hill. There's a lot of would-be killers up there, and many have no marker to show they ever passed this way."

His words seemed to have no effect. By now they stood facing each other in the middle of Front Street. As if by some mysterious force the street was suddenly empty except for a few horses tied to hitching rails.

"It's Micky Tallon," called the boy, "but you won't need to know that. I'll sure see you get a marker though," he added as a taunt.

Matt watched as the young man took his stance. He hated what he was about to be forced to do, but it came as part of the job he'd volunteered for. He steadied his breathing and watched Micky Tallon's right hand, just waiting for that tell-tale twitch.

It took a little longer than he expected. The boy was building his nerve. Then suddenly the hand went to the gun. He was fast, but Dillon was more accurate, and the young man fell to the dirt in the street beneath his feet. Matt walked over to him, feeling a little sick at his stomach - such a young life barely begun and now thrown away. He wished he knew who'd set the boy up - that was someone he would really like to face. He was aware of Chester coming towards him, and as he started towards the Long Branch Kitty came up, looking him over for any sign of injury.

"I'm fine, Kitty." He smiled at her, then turned to Chester. "Take care of him," he said as he moved to follow the woman who cared about him more than she should. As they walked through the batwing doors she signaled to Red to bring the marshal a shot of whisky. He lowered himself into one of the chairs facing the street at the small table at the back of the room. Its former occupants had silently left as the part-owner of the Long Branch had entered followed by the lawman. She was sitting next to him now, not quite touching, but there for him as she always was. There was silence for a few minutes as he studied the liquid in the glass in front of him.

"He was fast, Matt," she almost whispered. He could hear the relief in her voice.

"Yes," was all he could reply.

They didn't talk much after that until he finished his drink and stood up.

"I'll see you later, Kitty."

She just nodded and watched as he picked up his hat and headed for the street. She followed, at a distance, and stood watching as the marshal's long strides carried him towards the jail. Often, in the past, she would see Adams following him, and the two men would disappear behind the heavy wooden office door. She was never privy to their conversation, but knew that Doc could somehow help him cope with the miseries that came with the badge. Of course Doc wasn't here and Sutherland had too many problems of his own to concern himself with something like this.

Kitty turned back to the saloon and went to help behind the bar. Staying busy would keep the images out of her mind. It wasn't long before the new doctor appeared. As usual he purchased a bottle of whisky and headed for the table which she and Matt had recently vacated. She couldn't help but feel sorry for him. She drew herself a beer and went to join him.

Sutherland was thinking of the gunfight he had just witnessed from his window above the street. He couldn't help but wonder how Adams coped with things like that. The possibility of sudden death or serious injury and him being the one who had the responsibility to patch things up. Especially the big, intimidating marshal.

He was aware that Kitty Russell had sat down beside him. She was a comforting presence. He poured an oversized shot into his glass and sat looking at it for a moment.

"Do things like that happen often?"

She could tell he was scared by the slight tremor in his voice.

"Not too often, but yes, there is always someone out there looking for a fight."

"How does…. how does he cope with that?"

She guessed what he meant. "You referring to Matt or Doc?"

He looked at her blue eyes and the soft understanding smile on the curve of her lips.

"Both I guess."

She let a silence hang for a moment before answering.

"That's why we need a marshal and a doctor in this town. Often their jobs are closely connected."

He nodded and looked down at his hands. They were not as steady as they should be.

"You wanna talk about it ?" she asked, looking him squarely in the eyes.

"Don't think I can."

"You know, Doc always said it helps to talk."

He was halfway annoyed by her reference to Adams, but he knew she meant well, and that what she said was true.

"You know, Doctor Sutherland…"

"Please call me Alan," he interrupted.

"Well, Alan, I see a lot of men come through here, and many of them have problems, but I've never seen one who found the answer at the bottom of a whisky bottle."

He just nodded his head. He knew that what she said was true, but somehow he couldn't see any other way. He gathered his bottle and stood up.

"Thanks," he said then turned and headed for the doors.

She wanted to do something more for him - not only for the man himself but because a doctor was essential to the well-being of Dodge City and, more importantly from her point of view, to Marshal Matt Dillon.

ooo000ooo

It was just past midnight before Matt arrived back at the Long Branch. The saloon was almost empty as he looked over the batwing doors. Kitty was busy helping Red clean up some of the mess on the bar. He still had to make rounds on the other saloons in town - it would be another hour or two before he returned.

ooo000ooo

At last in the privacy of Kitty's rooms they could be themselves. Both had a snifter of Napoleon Brandy, and the soothing liquid relaxed them.

"I sent a telegram to Doc today," Matt admitted watching her face for a reaction.

"I wondered how long it would take you. What did you say?"

"Not much, just that I thought it was time he came home."

"I think he will when he's ready," she reached over and laid her hand on his arm. "You miss him don't you?" she added.

"Don't you?"

She nodded.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

**Home is Where the Heart Is**

Chapter 12

Doc awoke with a headache. He was cold and it was dark. He moved carefully, lifting his right hand to his head. He felt a painful lump and knew he had been slugged. He didn't remember anything after stumbling on the bottom stair of the opium den above which Tara-Lee and her husband Petrov had been hiding. Carefully he got to his feet, hoping that his eyes would adjust to the darkness, and he could try to figure out where he was. With hands in front of him he walked with small steps until he hit a wall. His eyes were working a little better now, and he could see boards with a few cracks between them through which a little light managed to sneak. He turned to place his back against the wall and tried to look around. He was able to make out a small heap in the far corner, and he made his way carefully towards it. As he feared it was Petrov. The man was in bad shape, and there was absolutely nothing he could do for him. He had no instruments, no medicines, not even any water. He checked the man as best he could. He was unconscious - maybe that was merciful.

ooo000ooo

Tara-Lee had the small calling card grasped desperately in her hand. She started at one end of Filbert Street and studied the numbers or names on every door. At last there was an impressive building with large columns on each side of the front door. The address matched the one on the card she held. She was a little scared as she reached up to rap on the fancy brass door-knocker. At first she thought no one would answer, but eventually the big door swung open, and a very stern looking woman gazed down at her.

"Please ma'am, I need help. The good doctor is in trouble, and there is nothing I can do. Please?" she repeated. She had spoken quickly thinking that the woman would close the door before she could get her request out. The woman let her in, but only as far as the hallway.

"Wait here," she said before turning abruptly on her heel and disappearing through a door on the left.

Tara-Lee waited for what seemed to be a long time. Eventually a serious looking man appeared. His clothes were very fine - much more so than the good doctor she had met.

"What do you want?" he asked somewhat gruffly, "We don't give free medicine here."

"I don't need medicine." She pulled the medical bag from beneath her shawl. "This man needs your help."

Ben Williams looked at the bag. He knew it belonged to his friend Galen Adams before he even read the name on it. Only Galen would keep such an ancient medical bag as that.

"Where did you get this?" he asked with suspicion in his voice, "Did you steal it?"

She hung her head and looked down at her hands which were still clutching the now grubby calling card.

"It's a long story, Sir. Do you have time to listen?"

Williams looked at her. In some ways he felt sorry for the girl, and knew Adams, with his soft heart, would have agreed to help her no matter what. He showed her to the room on the left of the hallway from which he had just emerged. As they entered he called back over his shoulder to the stern looking woman who had answered the door.

"Bring us some coffee please, Nina."

The room was fancier than anything Tara-Lee had ever seen before. Chairs were upholstered in gold and red fabrics, long velvet drapes hung at the tall window facing the street, and a big oak desk sat staunchly in the middle of the room. He signaled her to sit in one of the chairs in front of the desk while he perched a hip on the corner to one side. He sat there looking at her, waiting for an explanation. She was scared inside, but knew this was probably the only person she could get help from. She steadied her breathing and wished her heart wasn't thumping so loudly. Then she began to tell him what had happened.

"I asked the good doctor to help my husband. He had been badly beaten by a gang of thugs down by the docks. The doctor came back here to get his medical bag, the one I brought you. When he returned to our room in Chinatown the men came to take my husband away and they took the good doctor too. Now he is in terrible danger and needs help. You must do something."

Williams stood up and paced the floor. Somehow he felt responsible for Adams - after all he was the one who had persuaded him to come out here. His friend's idea of practicing medicine differed from his own, maybe he had been changed by all those years in Dodge City. He'd tried to warn him about the parts of this town to stay away from, but apparently the man hadn't taken heed.

"Is there no law officer in Chinatown who you can go to with this problem?"

She shook her head and her brown almond eyes looked up at him pleadingly. He could see the beginning of tears, but she blinked her eyes to hold them back.

"No, Sir, there is no law in Chinatown. The white-law won't go there, and the Chinese are too scared of the tongs."

"You have to tell me more about what happened."

At that moment the stern lady returned with a silver coffee pot on a silver tray. The coffee pot was accompanied by two delicately patterned porcelain cups. Never had such fine things touched her lips. He poured the coffee and handed a cup to her. She was almost scared to drink from it.

Carefully, between sips of the exquisite coffee, she told him the story of how she had met Petrov, how he stole the opium from the ship, and how Liu Xiang had come to take him and the good doctor. She finished with how she had hidden under the stairs scared that she would be discovered.

"Liu owns a big warehouse down at the wharf where the boats come in. I am sure that is where he has taken them. I don't know exactly where it is, but I know the area."

"Let me think."

By now Williams totally believed her story. He knew that what she said about the law in Chinatown was true. The police who patrolled other parts of San Francisco would never set foot in that place. He had a distant cousin who was a Sheriff in the neighboring county, maybe he could get him to come and help, but he didn't hold out a lot of hope. Why to goodness hadn't Galen listened to him? Almost absent-mindedly he picked up his friend's medical bag that the girl had brought, and left the room. He went into Adams' office to put it on his desk. As he set it down his eye caught the crumpled telegram lying there. Slowly he extended his hand towards it. It was addressed to Adams, but sometimes invading a man's privacy was necessary.

Carefully he smoothed out the flimsy paper and read the note. The message itself was not so interesting or unexpected. Williams had thought for several weeks now that Adams belonged more in Dodge City than he did here. But the signature caught his attention. Matt Dillon, United States Marshal. He didn't know the man, but a United States marshal was a force of law to be reckoned with, and come to think of it, Adams had mentioned Matt Dillon a time or two. Maybe if the man thought highly enough of Galen Adams he would be willing to travel here to help his friend. He knew it was a long shot but could think of no alternative right now.

He returned to where the young woman with the brown almond eyes was waiting.

"I have an idea," he told her, "but it will take a few days to put together. Do you have a safe place to stay?"

She thought for a minute. In reality nowhere was safe when it came to Liu Xiang's thugs, but if she went back to the opium den she might be able to find more information as to the whereabouts of her beloved Petrov and the good doctor. Maybe they wouldn't bother looking there for her again. In the end she said simply, "I have a place."

"How will I find you when the time comes?"

"Come to the place called Telegraph Hill in two days' time, in the afternoon. There is a bench there where people sit to look out over the ocean. I will find you." She was anxious to leave. This place with all its finery made her feel uncomfortable. "I must go now," she told him, "please find a way to help my friends."

"I will," he promised and got up to let her out the front door himself.

Williams knew he had work to do - first of all a telegram to be sent to Dodge City, and then rescheduling any patients he had on the books for the afternoon he was to meet with Tara-Lee again. After that he would go home and spend an evening in comfort and safety with his wife and family. He couldn't help but think of the poor Chinese girl and the hard life she led. Maybe Adams wasn't so wrong after all, maybe it was he who had changed. There were many people out there needing his help. He had just managed to build a wall around himself so that he never saw them. He remembered how it had been soon after he and Galen had started their small practice back east. They never had money or the finer things in life like he had now, but they had more of a sense of purpose and something else - maybe it was satisfaction. He shook his head. Those days had faded from his memory until just now. Maybe it wasn't Adams who had been changed by Dodge City, maybe it was San Francisco that had changed him.

He took his hat and cane from the hall-stand and went out to send two telegrams.

ooo000ooo

Doc was sitting on the floor in the semi-darkness listening to the ragged breathing of his patient. There was absolutely nothing he could do for him, there wasn't even a pillow to put under his head. Even so he couldn't just leave the man uncared for. From time to time he would find the man's wrist and check his pulse. It was irregular and faint at times. He knew Petrov didn't have long in this world. It was possible that one of the broken ribs had pierced a lung when he was dragged here. He sat wondering what was going to happen. There would be no Matt Dillon riding in to save his neck this time. He hoped Alan Sutherland would be able to take care of his Dodge City friends. Strangely it was they, not himself, who were his primary concern.

He must have nodded off for a while because the sound of a key being turned in the lock on the cell door woke him. Two of the men he had seen earlier came in. He was a little slow getting to his feet, and one of them came over and yanked him up, indicating that he was to go with them. The instructions were hardly necessary. He had no choice because the men were on either side of him hauling him along a stone hallway. The light out here seemed bright after the gloom of the cell, and he blinked his eyes a time or two.

He was pushed roughly through an open door into an old fashioned parlor. His eyes had just about adjusted to the brighter light, and now he could see the man who had been leading the gang when he and Petrov were taken from the room above the opium den. He was dressed in a finely tailored European suit with a white silk shirt underneath. The shirt cuffs showed about an inch below the cuffs of his jacket and were fastened with flashy gold cufflinks. He was pouring whisky from a crystal decanter into two leaded glass goblets. He turned and offered one to Adams, holding out the glass with a perfectly manicured hand. Now he had time to look, Adams guessed that this man was about forty years of age. He had a very thin mustache adorning his upper lip which then drooped down a little at both corners of his mouth. He wore a pair of thick horn-rimmed spectacles which Doc guessed were to correct a myopia.

He accepted the drink and inhaled its aroma as the man in front of him spoke.

"You Americans enjoy a glass of whisky I believe. It is not my drink of choice but I can be sociable."

His English was perfect but maybe a little stilted. He seemed to have no problem pronouncing the letter R which was notably difficult for most people whose first language was Chinese.

Doc waited a moment then took a taste of the drink in his hand. It was, of course, a very fine whisky, probably finer than any he had tasted.

"Why did you bring me here?" he asked.

Doc had already presumed he was not going to get out of this alive, and so had no qualms about speaking his mind.

"I will ask the questions. You have a name I presume?"

That could have been question or a statement. Doc decided there was no harm in answering. "I'm a doctor. Adams is my name. Would you be so kind as to tell me yours?"

Doc's voice was quite gruff, he didn't like playing these kind of games.

"Certainly, there is no harm in that. My name is Liu Xiang. You can call me Mr. Liu, I think it is easier for your tongue." The man gave the most sickly smile at what he presumed was a clever joke. Adams was not impressed.

"Well, Mr. Liu, would you be so kind as to tell me what this is about?"

Liu gave something like a snicker and took a swallow of his drink. He indicated for Doc to take a seat on one of two chairs by a small round table.

"Dr. Adams, you have had the misfortune to be caught up in something bigger than you can understand. How did you come to be in that room with Petrov?"

"His wife had asked me to visit him because he was sick. That's what doctors do, you know - visit the sick."

"Don't be clever with me, it will not help you. Where is his wife now?" He put a strange emphasis on the word wife.

"How should I know. She brought me to him and then left, I haven't seen her since."

Liu took a long thin cheroot from a silver box in the centre of the table, then remembering his manners - offered one to Adams, who declined.

"You know, Dr. Adams, you put me in a difficult position. I think you are aware of more than you are telling me. If I turn you loose you have information that may be of use to other people, and I cannot risk that. My business is too big to concern itself with one doctor or one thief." He stopped and made a performance out of lighting his cheroot.

"Maybe you need time to consider that," he continued between puffs, "I do not want to have to…extract information by force… from someone of such a noble profession. We are both professionals Doctor, consider that."

" I don't know what else I can tell you. That man back there is dying, there is nothing I can do for him. At least allow him a blanket, a pillow, and maybe some water so his final hours can bring some small comfort."

Liu withdrew the cheroot from his mouth. At first he looked startled by the fact that someone would dare talk to him like that, then he opened his mouth and gave a raucous laugh.

"You have nerve, Doctor. I shall accede to your request. Now you go back and think on mine."

He reached for a small silver bell on the table and rang it. Almost instantly the door opened, and the two toughs who had dragged Adams to this room appeared. A few words of Chinese were exchanged, and Doc just about had time to swallow the last of his whisky before he was grabbed by the arms and returned to the damp, cold, and dark of the cell.

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

**Home is Where the Heart Is**

Chapter 13.

The vision of Micky Tallon lying dead in the street haunted Dillon throughout the night. As usual he was awake early, and left the solitude of his small room at the boarding house to head for the jail. Chester was not sleeping in his usual place on the cot in the office, so for a while the morning was strangely quiet. He did his best to work on reports that needed filing, but found it difficult to keep his mind focused. An hour passed and still Chester had not arrived - but that was remedied when the door burst open, and in a flurry of confusion, the assistant appeared all breathless and almost falling over his feet.

"Mr. Dillon, there's telegram for yer, it's from San Francisco."

Matt's mood improved almost immediately. Maybe Doc was coming home. The wire was in a sealed envelope so probably Chester hadn't read it yet. He ripped the envelope open and hurriedly pulled out the sheet of paper inside. His face fell as he read it.

"What is it, Mr. Dillon?" There was fear in the assistant's voice.

"Doc's in trouble. I'm going to San Francisco."

Ten minutes later the news had reached the ears of Kitty Russell in the Long Branch Saloon, courtesy of the mouth of Chester Goode.

"Mr. Dillon is planning to go Hays and board the train all the way to Californy."

"He is, is he? Well, he's not going alone," she assured the jailer.

She looked around and saw Bill Pence at the end of the bar. He was talking to Clem, the daytime barkeep. "Bill, I need to talk to you." She indicated for him to follow her to the stock room where she explained the telegram that the marshal had received. She planned to go to SanFrancisco with him. If Doc was in trouble she needed to be there. Fortunately her business partner understood the friendship that had developed between the red-headed woman in front of him and Doctor Adams. It was not the same as the relationship she had with the marshal. Oh yes, he knew about that too - even though they took care to hide it from the rest of the town.

Kitty arrived at the marshal's office in time to see Matt packing a small carpet bag with the few spare clothes he possessed.

"Weren't you going to come and tell me what's going on?" she asked him as she closed the door.

"I figured Chester would spread the news fast enough." He was too absorbed in his task to pay much attention to her.

"I'm coming with you."

The words startled him. "Look Kitty, I know how you feel about Doc, but this might be dangerous…" He didn't get to finish the sentence.

"So I'd be safer here with the buffalo hunters and killers who storm through Dodge on a regular basis?"

He turned to face her. "I have no idea what's going on. It's just too risky for you to come along. Besides I plan to leave on the late stage to Hays and take the Union Pacific from there."

"Then you better get two tickets because I'll be there with you."

As most often happened, Kitty got her way, and the late night stage had two extra passengers they weren't expecting. Surprisingly the trip was unremarkable. After the first relay stop they found themselves the sole occupants of the coach and it wasn't long before Kitty's head was resting against the marshal's shoulder as she fell asleep. Gently he slid his arm protectively around her. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have a little company after all.

ooo000ooo

The midday Union Pacific bound for the west coast pulled out of Hays exactly on time, but not before the marshal had stopped to send a wire to Ben Williams asking him to meet them at the rail terminal. Kitty admitted to herself that she was actually enjoying this time alone with Matt. She felt she was getting to know him more as a person than as the marshal who haunted the streets and saloons of Dodge City. Although he still had the Colt pistol fastened securely at his hip, he had removed the metal star from his chest and placed it safely inside the pocket of his vest. If it wasn't for the worry as to what was happening to Doc it could have been a wonderful vacation.

The train was quite crowded and the only seats they had secured were at the rear of the first carriage, so the noise from the rails and the engine kept their quiet conversations relatively private.

Although they had occasionally been on picnics and fishing trips together from Dodge, these had been only half day escapes from the hectic life of the town. Now they were away from all that, and for three days she could enjoy being with Matt Dillon the man. She didn't expect any in depth discussions from him, that was not his way, so she was quite surprised on the afternoon of the following day when he broached the subject of what had caused Adams to leave Dodge City like that, not even bothering to say goodbye, and how if he had known about it he would never have let him go.

Kitty smiled. This tall, sometimes awkward man would never understand. He could control an unruly mob with his voice and his stature, backed up by the reputation of his skill with a six gun, but he could never face anything so simple as his own feelings. Most of the town regarded him as honest and straightforward, and he was, except where his own needs were concerned. Those he kept strictly out of sight, much like the badge now tucked in his vest pocket. He knew where to draw the line of the law and held anyone responsible if they crossed it. His simple instruction to "get out of Dodge" had to be taken seriously. More than one crooked gambler had been subject to that, but for himself there was the ultimate deception - that badge and what it stood for was more important than the happiness of the man behind it.

"I told you Matt, he hated the idea of you giving your life to save his. He was certain that Jed Butler was going to kill you, and he would have to live with that knowledge. He couldn't face the possibility of it happening again."

Dillon thought about it for a while, but didn't really understand. When they were all there in the cabin with Butler he had never seriously considered the possibility that he would die. Something would happen that would give him an opportunity to turn the tables, and if somehow it didn't, he'd still have the satisfaction of knowing that Butler would not survive and Adams would. It was easier to replace a marshal than a doctor, and Dodge needed a doctor. He looked at Kitty still not really understanding.

"That was my decision to make, not his. He should have come and talked to me about it."

"Then what would you have done, locked him in a cell until he changed his mind?" A small sigh escaped her followed by a single murmured word. "Men". She didn't bother to try to explain. He would never understand.

ooo000ooo

Ben Williams took a carriage to Telegraph Hill and sat on the bench to watch the Ocean. He knew that Adams had been fond of coming up here of late. He could tell that the man was no longer comfortable in city life. At first he had been excited by the Opera, the concerts, and the medical meetings, but those seemed to have lost their attraction as time wore on.

The day after he sent his two telegrams he received only one reply. The local sheriff never did respond, so he was even more amazed when he received the wire that Dillon was on his way. He was totally surprised that a United States Marshal would even consider leaving his territory and coming all the way out here, but that is exactly what was happening. He would be arriving tomorrow on the Union Pacific. Adams must be a more important man than he thought.

His wandering mind was brought back to reality by a figure blocking his view of the ocean. He looked up to see Tara-Lee standing there. Her face was covered in bruises, and one of those rich brown almond eyes was swollen.

He stood up and took her by the arm, "Whatever happened to you? Let me take you back to the office and clean those cuts for you."

She looked around nervously, but allowed him to lead her to a waiting carriage. She had spent the last day or so trying to find information about Petrov, the good doctor, and Liu Xiang. In a way she had been successful, but only at a price. Soon she was seated on a chair in a small room off of the hallway she had first entered just two days ago. A lot had happened since then.

She sat still and did not complain even as the solution that Dr. Williams used to clean her cuts and bruises stung like fire. When he was finished he poured some coffee from a pot on the stove - not as fancy as the one she had had the last time she was here, but very welcome none-the-less. He was seated now and looked at her carefully.

"Suppose you tell me happened."

"I told you I would find out where they had taken Petrov and the good doctor. It took me several tries but finally I found the right man to ask."

"How do you mean?" Williams did not understand what she was trying to tell him.

"How do you think a poor young Chinese girl manages to make a living on the Barbary Coast? I met several men. In exchange for my…services… I wanted information. The sailor I met last night was rough. I think he was scared that he had said too much. He wanted to push me into the ocean afterwards but I managed to escape."

Williams noticed that she had a big bruise on her left arm but said nothing. This girl led a life he could not even begin to imagine.

"He told me he saw two of Liu 's gang carrying large bundles into warehouse number five along by the wharf. He figured they were bodies but couldn't tell for sure if they were alive or dead. He thought probably alive otherwise they would have been dumped into the water for the fish to eat. He even told me that Liu has enemies of his own and maybe he could find someone who would be of more help, but then I think he got scared for his own life and regretted that he had spoken."

Unconsciously she rubbed her bruised arm. He watched her for a moment then decided to give her the good news.

"There is a man coming who will help us. He is a United States Marshal, and he will be arriving by train from Kansas tomorrow. You will have to tell him everything you know. Tonight you need to rest and take some medicine I'm going to give you. It will help you sleep."

He decided to get her a room at a nearby hotel hopefully she would be safe there. Then when the marshal arrived tomorrow she could tell him all she knew. He hoped they would be in time.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

**Home is Where the Heart Is**

Chapter 14

There was a fine mist, almost but not quite rain, hanging over the ferry as they crossed the small stretch of water between Oakland and San Francisco. An hour earlier, Matt had helped Kitty down from the train onto the platform then stood for a moment unsure of what to do next. He had no idea what Dr. Ben Williams looked like. He picked up their bags and headed for the terminal building. It was a lot bigger and more substantial than the depot he was used to in Dodge. He saw a man standing there in a frock coat, wearing a top hat, and carrying a silver-topped cane. As they neared the building he noticed that they were almost the last passengers to leave the platform. Kitty had her hand entwined in his left elbow and he felt her increase the pressure with her fingers.

"That man is looking for someone, Matt." She indicated the man he had already noticed, with a nod of her head.

The man swung his cane and raised the tip slightly into the air, trying to catch their attention. He approached and enquired "Marshal Dillon?"

"Yes, and you are Dr Williams?"

Williams smiled. He had wondered how he would recognize the man he was supposed to meet but remembered Galen telling him about the tall, imposing lawman who wore a metal star. This was indeed a tall man. He was pleasantly surprised by the sight of the beautiful woman by his side.

Matt put the bags he was carrying on the ground and extended his hand.

"Allow me to introduce Miss Kitty Russell, a good friend… of Doctor Adams."

The ferry had brought them to the port on the San Francisco side of the bay, and as they disembarked, Williams pointed ahead.

"I have a carriage waiting. Let's back to my rooms, and I will explain the situation. Here is not the place."

It was an hour later, and they were all seated in Ben Williams consulting rooms listening to Tara-Lee's story. Kitty said very little, she had been watching the girl and noticing her bruised face and arm. She understood only too well what had been going on, and the heavy price that the girl had paid for the information she was sharing.

Williams had produced a map of the streets leading down to the docks, the region referred to as the Barbary Coast, and as best she could, Tara-Lee pointed out the location of the building where the men were being held.

Matt studied the map for several minutes then decided he really needed to go look at the place. There was no telling how long Liu Xiang would hold his prisoners there, and there was even the unthinkable possibility that too much time had passed already.

ooo000ooo

Adams sat in the near darkness feeling the cold and damp permeating his bones. Somehow Petrov was still alive although he had been totally unconscious since the time they had arrived in this place. The doctor was not the least bit intimidated by Liu's threats, but did wonder what information the man thought he possessed that was so important. Liu was quite an interesting character. He was obviously pure evil, and had no concern for anyone other than himself. Strangely though he had provided a blanket and pillow and even some water for Petrov when Adams had told him it was necessary. Maybe he thought the man might wake up and tell him what he wanted to know - whatever that might be. He had guessed that Liu's business was the importing of opium - not a noble profession at all. The drug caused more misery than alcohol in his opinion. It destroyed lives and families especially here on the Pacific Coast. Fortunately, as yet, it hadn't reached the Plains in any great quantity - and most of the unfortunates he had seen had become addicted to the drug as a result of receiving it for pain relief for injuries sustained during the war.

His thoughts had wandered so far that when a moan arose from the still form lying next to him, he was quite startled. He reached over to find his patients wrist, and the man reflexively pulled away.

"It's all right, I'm not going to hurt you," he spoke the words quietly so as not to scare the man. "I'm a doctor and I'm here to help you."

Petrov strained his eyes into the darkness, trying to figure out where he was and what had happened. Come to think of it he did remember this man's soothing voice from the small room he had shared with Tara-Lee, but how long ago that had been, he had no idea.

"What happened?" he finally managed to ask.

"Seems like you have enemies. A chinaman by the name of Liu Xiang sent his men to take you - I just happened to be there at the time."

"What happened to my wife?"

"I'm not sure but I think she managed to escape."

Petrov seemed to relax after that, and Adams took the water bottle Liu had given him, and lifting the man's head poured a little into his mouth.

Petrov seemed to savor the precious liquid.

" _Spasibo_ " he murmured.

"I'm sorry," Doc apologized, "I don't understand your language."

Petrov gave a smile - hardly visible in the half light.

"It means thank you." He took a few breaths before continuing. "I am Russian, from a small town called Alexandrovsk. It is a farming community, but has the misfortune to be a sea port off the east coast of Russia. Russian farmers are strong people you understand."

He paused for a moment or two. Adams considered telling him to rest and not to talk, but didn't think the man's life expectancy would be improved much by silence. At least he now understood why the man's speech was so heavily accented.

After a while Petrov continued. "Liu has many big ships traveling from China to your country." There were long pauses between his sentences, but there was no hurry. "He is a trader, but his cargoes are not good." Again another pause. "Opium, women, slaves…. all are welcome aboard Liu's ships."

Several minutes passed while Petrov regained his breath, and Doc tried to comprehend what he was being told.

"A big ship pulled into Alexandrovsk. My friends and I went to the dock to see if there was work to be had unloading it. The men came out to meet us, and we got taken aboard, but then found we were not allowed to leave. I think some of his crew had died or been killed, and he needed replacements. We were forced to work hard, very little food, bad conditions and no way out."

Doc was beginning to see the horror here.

"After many months we landed here in San Francisco. My friends and I think this would be a place friendly to us, and plotted to escape from the ship, but it was not so easy. We had to fight Liu's men, fortunately as I told you, we are strong - even after many months and many beatings we are still strong. We make it to land and hide. We have no money, barely clothes to stand up in, but we are free."

"Maybe you should rest for a while Petrov."

"No, it is good. Someone has to tell the story of Liu Xiang. Someone has to stop him. I don't think I can do it alone, but someone has to."

He paused again and the silence seemed all the worse for the story he had told. After a while Petrov gave a small cough to clear his throat before continuing.

"My friends and I, we split up, thinking it would give us a better chance of living to tell what had happened. One evening I was there hiding out in one of the opium houses in chinatown. Sometimes I could earn a nickel or two fetching water or cleaning up the worst of the mess from the floors. I hear voices and then screams from an alley nearby. Liu's men are attacking a Chinese girl, so I go to help her."

"That was Tara-Lee?" Doc asked.

" _Dah,_ "Petrov nodded, but the movement was lost in the darkness of the cell.

"If they had managed to take her she would be sold for the entertainment of other men. It is a badl business."

Doc had heard of such things, but never thought they would touch his life. These things may have happened long ago, but not now. There had been a war to end slavery.

"We help each other, but there is no work to be had. We need money to get a start. We need to get out of Chinatown and away from Liu Xiang. I decide there is only one way. If I can take a little of Liu's opium and sell it, I can get enough money to help us both. I know it is bad, but it will be sold here whether I or Liu bring it. I didn't think stealing from that creature was a crime. He never paid me for all the months I worked on his ship."

Petrov seemed to be getting agitated by his memories. Adams said nothing. It was a terrible story. There were no words he could add to improve it so he sat in silence.

"The next time one of Liu's boats came here, I managed to get onboard and fill my pockets with the evil stuff. The money I would make was good for us. We would leave that hell hole and find a new life far from Chinatown."

A coughing spell interrupted his narrative again, and Adams persuaded him to take another sip of water.

"What happened?"

"The man I sold the drug to - I thought he would be pleased to pay less than he pays Liu, but he set me up. Liu's men were waiting and tried to drag me back to the ship. I am a strong man and I escape, but I am hurt as you see. Now for sure Liu will kill me. I worry about my Tara-Lee, but it does not matter about me. I am hoping she is free."

Adams wanted to help this man. Strangely he thought of Dillon. If his friend were here it would be different. Somehow he would find a way to get them out of this mess - risking his own life if necessary. He hated to think that that was the very situation that had brought him here in the first place. Sadly Matt Dillon would never know what happened to him now. Doc Adams would just disappear without any trace. Such irony!

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

**Home is Where the Heart Is**

Chapter 15

Matt had paced the room restively, trying to come up with a plan. He knew he would be too conspicuous in Chinatown to just blend in with the local population. His height alone would mark him as an outsider, and he certainly couldn't walk in there as the United States Marshal out of Dodge City Kansas. In the end he decided that he might stand a better chance as a broken-down soldier left over from the war, down on his luck and looking to spend his few remaining dollars in an opium den or a bar. Fortunately he'd had little opportunity to shave while on the train so a respectable amount of stubble had accumulated on his face and with a little help from Kitty's make-up box he managed to look quite the disreputable denizen of the darker side of town. As a final touch he poured a little whisky onto his clothes to help create the right atmosphere.

Ben Williams was going to drive him to the edge of the docklands in a small town-carriage he owned, and then return to pick him up in two hours' time. Matt figured that should give him long enough to locate the warehouse and get some idea of how to get Doc out of there.

Williams had retrieved an old army pistol he still owned from a drawer in the hall table, and tucked it into his waistband beneath the frock coat that he habitually wore. Matt almost smiled when he saw it - Doc owned an almost identical one.

It was beginning to get dark as they prepared to leave the house. Kitty looked at Matt with a pleading in her eyes.

"Please be careful," she said. He stopped for a moment then put his arm around her shoulders - not quite a comforting hug but as close as he could come in public.

"It'll be fine Kitty, don't worry."

With that, he and Williams headed for the door, but there was a noise outside - loud voices and then a banging on the brass knocker.

"Dr. Williams! Dr. Williams! Come quickly, there's been an accident down the street."

Williams reached out and opened the door. A fairly well-dressed man stood there, breathless in his haste.

"Part of that new building collapsed, you know the one - just about two blocks from here. A man is trapped. His legs are pinned by a beam. Come quickly please."

"But…" Now Williams was unsure what to do. He looked at Dillon.

"Go ahead doctor, I'll manage."

Williams grabbed his bag from where it sat on the hall table, and hurriedly returned his pistol to the drawer. Without another word, he ran out the door following the individual who had come to get him.

Matt stopped for a moment as the door closed behind the doctor. He had to re-think his plan.

"I'll drive you there Matt," Kitty volunteered

Dillon looked horrified. "No, I can't allow that, it's too dangerous."

"Safe for you, but dangerous for me?"

"I didn't say that."

"Matt this isn't Kansas. You can't just ride into town and tie your horse to the hitching rail. I'm worried about Doc and so are you, let's get going."

"No wait." Tara-Lee interrupted. "I will be noticed less than Miss Russell, let me drive you."

Matt considered his options. Using either of the women in this situation went against his principles, but at the same time he needed a way to get in and out of the docklands. As Kitty had pointed out he couldn't just ride up to the local livery and leave his horse, and dressed as he was, hailing a carriage was out of the question.

"Kitty, Tara-Lee is right, wait here, I'll be back soon."

The redhead began to object but Matt quieted her, "We don't have time to discuss this now, Kitty."

She nodded, then turned to Tara-Lee. "Be careful and hurry back."

Matt had driven the carriage, which was remarkably like Doc's buggy only a little newer. The upholstery was so clean that he hated to sit on it wearing the old clothes they had torn and dirtied up for his disguise, but it was the only way.

With Tara-Lee's directions he drove as close to the dock-side warehouses as was safe then handed her the leathers and jumped down.

"I'll be back in two hours, marshal."

"I'll be here." Then he thought a moment. "If I'm not, you go back and stay with Kitty until Doctor Williams returns."

She smiled, nodded, and turned the carriage around, not taking particular care to glance behind her. A shadow moved away from the building and watched as she drove away. He had been waiting for someone else, but this would be good news to take to his boss.

Matt followed the path he had in his head from the map he had studied. He went slowly, staggering a little from time to time. He stopped to pull a whisky bottle from his pocket and took a swig. The action gave him time to look around and see if he was being followed. There was a group of sailors a few blocks to his south in the direction he was headed. They seemed to have recently disembarked from a cargo vessel of some type, and, like the drovers he was more familiar with in Dodge City, it looked like they had just been paid and were out looking for alcohol and women to spend their money on. He dismissed them as being unimportant. A darkened carriage careened from an alleyway ahead of him and started back in the direction from which he had just come. He pulled back into the shadows leaning against the wall as if for support. The carriage didn't stop. No one noticed him, but it did seem to be in a big hurry.

The street seemed even quieter after the sound of the carriage wheels on the cobblestones had faded. Now there was just the occasional wanderer on an errand, but none of them took the slightest notice of the drunk ex-soldier.

The buildings here were mixed - some of brick and metal but many more of wood. Most had big double doors on the side facing the street - presumably so wagons could be driven in and unloaded in secrecy. From the map in his head the warehouse he was looking for would be two streets ahead and then to the left. He was getting closer to the water now and more people were around. Some were Chinese but many more came from other lands. He heard many different languages being spoken. One group brushed by him, he couldn't understand what they were saying, but they were obviously making fun of the drunken soldier he was portraying. One of them took a lunge at him, and he stepped sideways - the man was not particularly sober himself and the loss of balance made him fall to the ground. His friends rallied around seeming to blame Matt for their friend's mishap. He had a gun hidden underneath the tattered jacket he was wearing but he didn't want to reveal it unless he thought things were getting too far out of hand. Another of the men took a swing at him, which he managed to block, finally the third member of the group showed some sense and after a few words hauled his two unfortunate companions to their feet and headed off north towards Chinatown.

The incident had cost him a little time and he needed to work fast now. One more block and he arrived at Liu Xiang's warehouse. It was the largest one around and situated at a street corner which afforded it the opportunity to have a big set of double doors on two sides. He looked around trying to locate a window or door that he could use to gain entrance. There was a small window on the very back of the building, well away from either street. He should be able to reach it by standing on a couple of packing boxes. There was a metal door next to it so he reached out to test the lock. It didn't budge at all. There were several other windows, but all to high up to be reached from the ground. It seemed like the first one he found was his best hope.

Taking out his pocket knife he used it to slide the catch. Then he listened carefully for any sounds from the inside as he gently pushed the window open. He was tempted to enter, just to see if he could locate Doc and Tara- Lee's Petrov, but that was not the plan. They would probably need a wagon to get the two prisoners out of there. After toying wth the idea for a moment, he climbed inside. He could hear voices coming from the front of the building. They were raised - excited maybe even angry. He couldn't tell which because he had no knowledge of Chinese.

He had accomplished what he had set out to do, and found a way in. He would return in a few hours better prepared to find his friend. "Hang on there, Doc," he thought as he carefully climbed back out into the alley and eased the window closed behind him. It would be ready for when he returned.

ooo00ooo

Tara-Lee had turned the buggy around and was headed home. The marshal had told her not to hurry, not to attract attention to herself, so she maintained the horse at a slow steady trot. Never once did she glance behind.

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

**Home is Where the Heart Is**

Chapter 16

Doc had been sitting in the cold and dark. The light had been fading for the last hour or so, and he concluded it was evening already. Other than that he had lost track of time. He must have dozed off for a while because he was brought back to reality by the sound of a key turning in the lock. He whispered to Petrov to stay quiet, then stood up as two of Liu's men came in and grabbed him. They herded him roughly along the hallway to the room where he had met Liu Xiang previously.

"All right, all right, you don't have to push me," he complained loudly as they opened the door and shoved him through. His mouth fell open before he had time to recover himself. There were two chairs in front of Liu's desk, in one sat Tara-Lee and in the other Kitty Russell. Somehow he managed to stop himself from crying out her name, but his mind was in turmoil trying to imagine what she was doing here. Both the women looked like they had put up a fight because their clothes were torn, and Kitty's normally expertly arranged hair was rough and tangled.

"I see you recognize these ladies, doctor." Liu had a sardonic smirk on his face. He knew he had one up on Adams as far as Tara-Lee. He was not too sure about the red-headed woman, but had recognized the unexpected flicker of surprise that crossed Adams' face when he saw her.

Doc's mind was working fast now. Kitty was the last person he'd expected to see in San Francisco, but she was here so he was sure Matt Dillon wasn't far behind. They might yet get out of this predicament.

ooo000ooo

Dillon had left the warehouse and returned to the street where he thought Tara-Lee would be waiting. He stopped and looked around but she was nowhere in sight. Maybe she was running a little late, but he didn't think that likely. He would have given a lot to have his sturdy buckskin nearby, to mount up and ride back to the doctor's surgery. Any number of things could have happened - most of which went through his head as he walked the streets back towards Williams' office. It took him almost an hour to get there, and when he did he regretted ever leaving. The front door was open, and the hallway showed signs of a recent struggle. Williams was not around either. He ran through the house calling for Kitty then found her reticule on a chair in the room that the doctor used as his office. In the hallway he found a broken parasol lying on the floor. He went out back of the house to the small stable yard. The horse and buggy were standing there so he knew that Tara-Lee had made it back here. Suddenly he remembered the darkened carriage that had passed him on the street and instantly knew it had something to do with this. Someone had seen the Chinese girl and followed her home, and now that someone had taken her and Kitty.

ooo000ooo

Tara-Lee had pulled into the yard behind the house and left the horse hitched up to the buggy. She knew she would be leaving again in a short while to bring the marshal back.

Kitty was waiting at the back door to welcome her.

"Was everything all right?" she asked as Tara-Lee secured the horse.

The two women sat at a small table in what had once been a kitchen until the house had become a doctor's office. There was still a stove and a coffee pot which Kitty had taken advantage of. While they drank from the small decorated cups, Kitty asked Tara-Lee about herself. How come she lived in such a place as Chinatown.

The young Chinese girl hung her head.

"My mother was not Chinese," she admitted. "She became pregnant after… well, after a man had been rough with her. My grandparents were horrified when I appeared on the scene. They protected her for a while, but eventually she had to leave their home. The Chinese people did not accept her either, but at least they didn't throw her out on the street. After she died I just hung around there not really knowing what else I could do."

The conversation was interrupted by banging on the front door. The women rushed to see what was happening, but before they got to it, the door flew open, and three men stood there. Tara-Lee had seen them before. They were the ones who had come to take Petrov. The women were grabbed and dragged to the door. Kitty managed to snatch her parasol off of the hall-stand on the way, and tried beating her captor over the head with it, but it did little good. They were pushed unceremoniously into a darkened carriage waiting outside the door, and had no chance to scream or attract attention. There was a man inside with a gun which he held pointed at them. He said something in Chinese which Tara-Lee translated.

"He says to be quiet or he will kill us."

One look at the man's face and Kitty could tell he was speaking the truth. It seemed that they were racing at break-neck speed now. The darkened windows meant she could see nothing of the outside, but Tara-Lee knew where they were headed and she feared for herself and her new-found friend. Liu Xiang did not treat women kindly. He had ways of using them to make money, and she didn't want Kitty Russell to finish up in his hands.

Eventually the carriage stopped, Kitty could tell from the change in sounds that they had pulled into a building and were no longer on the cobblestone streets. They were ushered out at gunpoint, and walked across what seemed to be some kind of loading dock. There was one small door to the left, and they were pushed through it into a dimly lit hallway. There were sounds of conversation coming from ahead. Soon a door was opened, and they found themselves inside a well-furnished room. A man, fairly tall for a Chinese, turned to face them. The thin drooping mustache which adorned his upper lip only served to emphasize the evil stare in his eyes. He began to move towards her, and Kitty almost cringed at the thought of his touch, but would not let it show on her face. He reached out and took hold of her chin. She instinctively slapped him away with her hand. A second later her arms were being held behind her back as Liu turned her face from side to side, examining it carefully as if judging a horse he was about to buy. She thought he was going to try to kiss her and spat at him. He laughed.

"You will bring me good fortune," he snickered, finding his own comment amusing.

The women were pushed across the room and forced into chairs.

"I have someone I want you to meet Tara-Lee. I think you know him already but it will interest me to watch such a reunion." Again he laughed then gave an order to one of his men. Kitty, of course, didn't understand, but from a subtle change in her friends expression she knew something significant was about to happen.

Liu had the audacity to offer them each a drink while they waited, but they both refused. Kitty stared straight ahead trying not to think about what was going to happen next. It wasn't long before she found out. There were noises, almost like a scuffle outside the door, which then swung open with a rush, and Doc suddenly appeared, a man on either side of him holding his arms. She tried not to show any emotion, but couldn't help but notice the bewildered horror cross Doc's face when he saw her sitting there. She wanted to tell him she was fine but tried her best not to even glance at him. She had never seen Adams look so worn down. His usually rumpled clothes were torn and damp looking, his hair was more unkempt than she had ever seen it, and his face was bruised with a small streak of dried blood on his left cheek. She wanted to go to him, to hold him, to seek the comfort he could always deliver, but instead she kept her face as neutral as she would in a tight poker game.

"I see you two are acquainted already." Liu was leering with self-satisfaction. "There is another man too - a tall man. He is not here now, but be assured my men will find him. Then we can all sit down together." Again that laugh sent chills down Kitty's spine.

"Doctor, tell me, how is your patient? I have a ship leaving here in two days, and I will need my crew. That Russian is still indentured to me whatever he may have told you." He looked meaningfully towards the two women. "This will be a profitable cargo."

He gave that smile again then turned to his men. Kitty did not understand the words but Tara-Lee did.

"Take the doctor back to his cell, and put the women with the others."

He lifted his glass to them as they were dragged roughly from the room.

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

**Home is Where the Heart Is**

Chapter 17

Matt found himself sitting at the small kitchen table. The coffee pot was still warm so it couldn't have been long since the women were taken from the house. From what Tara-Lee had told him Liu Xiang's opium business was the least of his criminal activities. The chinaman "owned" many women and ran a large prostitution ring in many of the ports his ships visited. He also shanghaied men to serve as slave labor on his ships. That was what had happened to her husband Petrov before he had escaped. He felt sorry for the young Chinese girl. She really had no future and was not accepted by either the Chinese or white communities. He had intended, somehow or another, to free her from the clawing hands of Liu Xiang, but now he had an even more urgent motive because at this moment the chinaman also held Doc and Kitty captive.

He took his gun from the waistband of his pants where it had been hidden beneath his jacket. He spun the chamber a time or two to make sure it was in perfect working order. Tara-Lee had told him that Liu might have as many as a dozen men working for him. Twelve against one was a tall order, but he saw no alternative.

He decided that it was time to put on his gun belt, and was debating whether to pin his badge back on when he heard sounds coming from the hallway. He peered around the kitchen door to see Ben Williams returning. The man was shocked at the appearance of his normally neat and tidy office.

Matt walked out to meet him.

"We have problems," he said more calmly than he felt. "I think Liu's men followed Tara-Lee here and abducted her and Kitty. Now I have to go after them."

"By yourself?"

"I have no choice."

"I'll come with you. After hearing about the terrible things that man does, it's time someone took him down."

"I can't ask you to come. This is my problem, not yours."

"Not anymore. It's every decent citizen's problem. I listened to that young woman's story too, don't forget, and decided it's time I got involved." He reached into the drawer of the hall table and pulled out the gun he had placed there earlier.

"In case you are wondering, yes, I do know how to use this," he said as he stuck it in his waistband.

By now it was dark outside. Matt carefully opened the front door and looked up and down the street. He was worried that Liu's men might still be around, but he saw no one and indicated for Williams to follow him.

ooo000ooo

Kitty and Tara-Lee were roughly manhandled along a hallway that led into a darker, damper part of the building. There were a series of barred doors all with big locks on the outside. One of the men took a ring of keys from his pocket and unlocked the farthest one. The women could hear noises from within the room, before they were pushed roughly inside.

It was almost completely dark, and both women lost their balance and tripped over several bundles on the floor before they had time to regain their equilibrium. One of the bundles sat up saying something in Chinese. Tara-Lee replied.

"What's going on?" Kitty asked her.

"Liu has taken these girls. He plans to ship us all out to one of his whore-houses at some port or another."

ooo000ooo

When the room was quiet again after the women had been removed, Liu brought Adams a glass of his fine sipping whisky and invited him to sit in one of the chairs in front of the desk where the women had recently been seated. The chinaman sat behind it in a big swivel chair.

"Doctor, we are both professional men and I have a business proposition for you."

"I don't want to have anything to do with any business you're involved with, Liu, so you might as well send me back to that cell with your other prisoner."

"I think I have the means to persuade you. Perhaps you can start by telling me who got you involved in this scheme and who that young Chinese girl works for."

"I told you, she asked me to come and see her husband."

"He is not her husband. He had no permission from me to marry - especially to a little Chinese whore."

Doc was getting angry. "You know, Liu, not so long ago we fought a war in this country to abolish slavery. He didn't need your permission."

Liu opened a silver box on his desk and drew out a thin black cheroot all the while ignoring Adams' remark. He was about to put the box away when, as if suddenly remembering his manners, he reached over and offered one to Doc. The man from Dodge just shook his head. Liu made a big display of lighting the cheroot which he had placed in an ivory holder, then turned his attention back to Adams.

"There was a tall, white man seen snooping around here." He spoke between taking breaths to draw on his cigar. "We shall of course detain him if he returns. We do not tolerate trespassers. Would you know who he is, or maybe who he is working for?"

The tall man could only be one person. Adams had left Dodge City to prevent Matt Dillon from losing his life - now history was repeating itself. He tried to give nothing away, but was never good at maintaining a poker face.

"Ha! I see you do know him - a friend of yours maybe? Perhaps he works for the same organization as you and that girl."

"Look," Adams was getting angry. This man was a miserable excuse for a human being. He took people and abused them in order to make his own fortune. "I told you who I am and what I do. I don't work for anyone."

"Sadly, I don't believe you. Someone is trying to move in on my territory and take over my business, and I think you know who it is. Maybe it is that tall man, and maybe you know his name."

"Just take me back to that cell. You're paranoid. I've already told you everything I know."

Liu went over to a safe in the far corner of the room. He opened it with a key he wore on a gold chain that stretched across his finely embroidered silk vest. The safe door opened with a click, and he reached inside to remove a black wooden box which he set on the desk in front of Adams. He didn't open it just yet, just left it sitting there as a distraction.

"Back to my proposition, Dr. Adams. I think I can use your skills to improve the smooth running of my business."

"I wouldn't help you - kill me if you want."

"Oh, it won't be as easy as that." Liu reached over and flipped the lid back on the large box that he'd placed on the desk. He tilted it forwards so that Doc had a better view of the contents - several vials of a clear liquid and three medical syringes with needles. For a moment Doc didn't understand.

"I presume, doctor, that being a medical man you are familiar with morphine. A truly miraculous drug extracted from the poppy."

"It has its uses," Doc agreed, "but it has too many side effects to be used freely."

"I can make use of those side effects. They will assist me in my business. The women who work for me will become more, shall we say, compliant, if I hold the key so to speak." He took one of the syringes from the box and held it up in front of Doc's face as he spoke.

"You mean you want to get them addicted so you can control them," Doc translated for his own benefit as much as Liu's.

"If you like to look at it that way."

"I will never help you do that."

"Really doctor, think of this. That red-headed American woman would be quite an attraction, I might even like to … sample the goods, myself." He paused and then gave that horrible laugh. "I see I have your attention now." He laughed again at his own cleverness.

"We will be shipping our next cargo out on the high tide in about," he paused to consult a pocket watch, "thirty-six hours. My men have almost finished unloading the opium, and the hold will be empty and ready to receive my new acquisitions. That cargo will be a lot easier to load if it is somewhat sedated. As a physician I am sure you can arrange that with the aid of the contents of this little box."

Doc studied the box, he couldn't help himself. It was painted in a shiny black lacquer finish on which pink roses had been painstakingly designed. The box was exquisite, but the contents were evil.

"Think on it doctor. I would say you have about six hours - then I might decide to…sample the goods." Liu laughed again. The thought of 'sampling' the redhead quite excited him. He waved what was left of his cheroot in the air to emphasize his intent.

Doc felt his heart beating like an Apache war drum inside his chest. He couldn't possibly drug Tara-Lee, Kitty, and the other girls Liu alluded to. But the alternative was unthinkable. If Matt was indeed nearby he hoped the marshal would hurry up and find a way to get them out from under the grasp of Liu Xiang.

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

**Home is Where the Heart Is**

Chapter 18

Matt decided to wear his gun on his right hip just as he usually did back home in Dodge City. He knew he had a fast draw and an accurate shot and thought that both those advantages far out-weighed any risk of standing out from the crowd. Likewise he had taken his badge and pinned it back on the left side of his shirt where it belonged. Wearing his formal jacket would make his gun less visible, and at the same time hide the badge until he needed it. He was glad to see that Williams had dispensed with the top hat and frock coat in favor of more practical attire.

The two men headed out into the darkness. Matt felt vulnerable. In Dodge he knew all the sounds of the city and could detect something out of place before actually seeing it. Here things were different. There were other people walking around, he had no clue who was about to pull a gun on him or come up behind him from a dark alleyway. The sounds of this city were all strange to him, and he couldn't tell if any of them warned of danger.

They hailed a carriage, and went partway to the warehouse. They took to foot again in a dark square that was about half a mile from their destination. Matt led the way to the building he had visited earlier in the day. He found the window that he had forced open previously - but now it was boarded over. It made him think that maybe his earlier visit had been noticed, but it was too late to turn back now - there was too much at stake.

He studied the wood fixed over the window opening. Given the right tools and maybe twenty or thirty minutes he could remove it, but all he had was a pocket knife, and very little time.

Matt turned to face his accomplice.

"Let's have a look around, and see if we can find another way in."

Williams nodded. This whole process was totally new to him. His life to date had been very quiet and organized, but here he was creeping around a building in a very unsavory part of town, in the dark, maybe even risking his life, all in a good cause. He couldn't help but feel a little exhilarated by the situation.

Matt had inspected the entire building earlier that day, and apart from this small window the only other way to gain access was through one of the two main double doors designed to let loaded wagons into the building.

Dillon led the way back to the corner of the building facing the docks. He had seen a guard there earlier in the day, which most likely meant there was an entrance nearby. Matt carefully peered around the building looking for Liu's man. At first he didn't see him. He signaled for Williams to stay hidden while he started out from his hiding place. He walked towards the freight entrance, staying close against the side of the building, and didn't see the guard until he almost bumped into him. The man was leaning back against the door smoking a cigarette. It was the smell of the smoke that barely gave Matt enough warning. He noted it only just in time to pull his gun from its holster. He raised it in the air and, just before the man turned completely around to face him, he brought the barrel down on his head. The guard fell limply towards the ground but Dillon managed to catch him by the shoulders before he landed then dragged him into the shadow of the big double doors. He looked back to see Williams watching him from the far corner of the building and waved him to come on.

Ben Williams looked down at the man lying on the ground.

"Did you kill him?" he asked, concerned about the welfare of another human being.

"No," Dillon assured him, "he'll just sleep for a while. Now we have to get inside before anyone else comes by."

He tested the small wicket gate cut within the larger freight doors and found that it was unlocked. With gun in hand he opened it and looked inside. It was a typical freight dock. Many wooden crates were stacked untidily and trash littered the floor. The light was not very good, but Matt entered anyway. There were no sounds to indicate that anyone else was inside so he picked up the comatose body of Liu's guard and, with Ben Williams following, made his way into the darkness. Now he needed a length of rope - something that shouldn't be too hard to find in a freight office. It was difficult to see because of the dim light, but after a quick search he found what he needed and hogtied his captive then gagged him with a piece of cloth he found lying in a corner. Satisfied that the guard wouldn't be alerting anyone for a while, he hid him behind a pile of packing crates.

Now he needed to find a way inside the rest of the building and hopefully discover where Doc and Kitty were being held. There was a door in the wall to his right. He could see light coming under it now that his eyes had adjusted. A shadow moving back and forth crossed the patch of light several times, so he knew one or more people were on the other side and might come through to the loading dock at any minute. He ushered Williams back into hiding while he took up a position next to the wall. There was only that thin door between him and whoever was moving around out there. He could catch parts of a conversation but there was none of it that he could understand. Suddenly the door was pushed open.

ooo000ooo

Doc had been returned to the cell he shared with Petrov, and almost immediately went to check on his patient. How the man was still alive he had no clue, but like someone else he knew so well, this man had amazing powers of recuperation.

"Hello Doctor." The strength of the voice amazed him - also the thick Russian accent that had been present up till now seemed to have vanished.

"How are you feeling?"

"Oh, pretty good. If it wasn't for this cast you put on my arm I'd be quite comfortable."

Doc pondered for a moment wondering if his patient was going to come up with some explanation for what was going on. After a while it seemed none was forthcoming. Since this man was at least partly responsible for the mess they were both in he felt entitled to ask.

"So what happened to the Russian accent?"

"It was what you might call a cover."

"And Tara-Lee, and you being married to her."

"Oh, that is all true."

" I think you owe me an explanation."

Petrov shifted around a little to make himself more comfortable.

"It all started in Russia - not in a farming community like I told you, but in one of the big cities. Russia was at war with Britain, France, and the Ottoman Empire in the Crimea. My Father was being hunted by the authorities, I never really knew what for but I think he was connected with a plot to overthrow Czar Nicholas. Anyway I was just a child when we all fled and came here to America. My father was very proud of his old country, but also grateful to this new one. He always hated injustice, and when the war broke out, encouraged me and my brother to enlist in the union army." He stopped and looked at his hands of a moment before continuing. "Sadly, my brother was killed at Antietam, and I don't think my mother ever forgave my father for that. After the war I had nothing better to do and stayed in the army eventually rising to the rank of Captain before resigning about three years ago."

He stopped and turned to Doc, "Are you sure you want to hear all this?"

Adams nodded - neither of them had much else to do right now. Besides, Doc thought, his story was just getting interesting.

"About eighteen months ago the city fathers of San Francisco lodged a complaint with their representatives in Washington. They were concerned because opium dens and violence between rival Chinese gangs were beginning to have an effect on their city and on the more legitimate business that took place at the docks. They feared ships wouldn't come here if the bad reputation spread, and that would do away with much of the city's commerce and income.

When I was in the army I had quite a reputation for getting things done - not always by the book you understand, but I always thought my methods worked better."

Doc smiled to himself, he knew a certain overgrown public servant who had similar ideas.

"Anyway, somewhere up there in Washington, someone remembered me and suggested that I could be encouraged to take on the task of putting an end to Liu's activities, or at least making a dent in them."

"Why you? Why not the federal marshals or the city police?"

"I don't really know. I do know that there are no law officers within a hundred miles of here who are willing to face the Tongs, and maybe the powers in Washington didn't want to risk the lives of men serving a useful purpose elsewhere."

"So you didn't mind risking your neck?"

"Doctor, I had no wife, no children, and my parents were dead. I had grown up in the life and death struggle of war, and life afterwards seemed pretty tame. This was the opportunity to take on a challenge that everyone else had turned down. It appealed to me."

Again Adams had heard something like that before from someone who referred to it as his duty, but somewhere in there he knew that man also enjoyed the challenge. Maybe he even understood it a little.

"So what did you do?"

"I got myself shanghaied and taken onboard one of Liu's ships with a group of other men. There were two men there who had been farmers in Alexadrovsk, so that's the reason I adopted their story, I figured Liu would never know the difference anyway, and at least I was right in that."

Again he paused before continuing. "It was three months before we landed here in San Francisco. During that time I found out that what Liu feared the most was a rival Tong trying to move in on his territory. So I invented one and spread all kinds of rumors. They caught on all too well. I even gave them a name - 'The House of Moon'.

"How on earth did you think you could scare Liu away with a set of rumors?"

"Really it began to work quite well. The Chinese are quite superstitious, and maybe Liu Xiang more so than most. I managed to plant enough evidence around that he began to believe in them. My hope was to scare him enough that he would take his business elsewhere, and I would earn my bonus."

"What happened?"

"The part about how I met Tara-Lee is all true. Suddenly I realized there was more to life than what I was doing. I wanted to take her away from all this and live a decent life somewhere. I just needed to wind up this case, get paid, and then move on. Of course, when Liu caught me stealing some of his cargo, he thought I was working for The House of Moon, and now he's trying to find who's leading that organization."

"So tell me why did you do that?"

"I was trying to scare him a little. Show him that Moon could take what he wanted. I also left him some notes threatening his life."

"How much do you plan to tell him?"

"I don't know, but I do need to find a way for Tara-Lee to get out of here."

Adams was about to tell him that he had a friend on the outside who would certainly be doing his best to get everyone out of here, but before he could start he heard footsteps outside the door, and then the rattle of keys before one was inserted in the lock. Hurriedly he signed for Petrov to lie down again and managed to get him covered with the old blanket before the two, now-familiar guards entered the cell and indicated for him to go with them.

Doc knew things were coming down to a head. He knew he could not inject Kitty with that drug, but what alternative did he have?

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

**Home is Where the Heart Is**

Chapter 19

Matt pressed himself against the wall behind the door and signaled for Williams to do the same so that they would both be hidden when the door opened. There were more voices out in the hallway, it sounded like three men, but Matt couldn't be sure. He drew his gun and waited. The conversation continued for several minutes, until at last he was aware that the door was being opened. He pressed himself tighter to the wall as two men entered. Neither one had a gun in his hand, and they were also disadvantaged by the dim light out here in the loading dock. It seemed they were looking for the man who had been on guard. Fortunately, it took their eyes a moment to adapt to the lower light level.

Matt let them come all the way in then slammed the door behind them - holding his gun pointed at their heads. He had the advantage of surprise, and indicated to them to raise their hands while Williams search them for weapons. He was rewarded with two guns, one from each, and a knife that one man had hidden in his boot. Using the same technique that he had with the guard from outside, he secured and gagged them both.

The doctor looked at him, "You're pretty good at that," he said smiling. He had developed a whole new admiration for this tall lawman who seemed willing and able to take on whatever came his way.

"Had a lot of practice," was Matt's short reply. "Come on, we need to get going."

He would really like to know how many men Liu had in the building. He even thought of asking one of his captives, but knew they would deny any knowledge of English, and he certainly didn't speak Chinese.

Carefully he opened the door just a crack and listened. There were no sounds coming from the other side, so he opened it a little more and glanced around. He found himself looking down a long hallway lit at regular intervals by gas lamps. Indicating for Ben Williams to keep watch, he walked to the left and came across several rooms with large padlocks on the doors. He figured that at one time they could have been used as storage rooms for freight. He wanted to call out to see if Kitty or Doc were behind one of those doors, but didn't want to attract the attention of anyone else who might be around. Also the only way he had of releasing them, if they were inside, was to shoot the locks out - and that would certainly attract unwanted attention.

Deciding that Liu and his men must be in the other direction he went back to the doorway leading to the freight dock.

"I don't think Liu is down there," he whispered, "we'll go that way," he pointed to the way opposite to that which he had just investigated. "Keep your gun handy and be quiet."

The hallway was quite long and had just one more door at the far end. Matt had a sense that he was closing in on Liu now. That door was the important one. When they were only feet from it, he leaned towards Ben Williams.

"Things may get a little hectic here. I am going to go in first, just follow me and shoot if anyone gets too close. I figure there might be as many as six or eight of his men in there. We won't have time to think too much about it." He looked back up the hallway and decided there was too much light. He didn't want to be framed against a well lit space, so he reached up to extinguish the two gas lamps nearest the door.

Matt put his hand on the door knob and gently tried to turn it. He was surprised that it was not locked, but to open the door slowly like that wouldn't give him the advantage of surprise which he needed. He took a half step back and raised his foot. A quick glance at his friend and then his boot connected squarely with the door which flew open with a crash and a splintering of wood.

ooo000ooo

Doc found himself being forced along the hallway to Liu's office. His mind was busy trying to grasp all that Petrov had told him. Now he understood why the Chinaman imagined that he or Kitty had information he needed. Maybe he could invent some story to pacify the man, but he knew deep down that wouldn't work. He could reveal Petrov's true identity and explain that there was no such Tong as the House of Moon, but it was unlikely that Liu would believe that either.

He was pushed into the room where he had met Liu earlier. He was horrified to see Kitty sitting in a chair being restrained by two more men. He expected to see fear in her eyes, but all he could find there was anger and contempt. There was no need to pretend he didn't know her now, Liu had already made up his mind on that score.

"Are you all right, Kitty?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, I'm fine Doc, except for these two louts." She tossed her head to indicate the two men beside her.

Doc was forced forwards towards the big oak table where the handcrafted black lacquered box with the hand painted roses on the sides sat in full view. It was already open.

"You need to fill the syringe doctor," Liu said. There was that sickly smile on his lips, he was enjoying this.

"And if I don't?"

"I don't think you want to consider that. It could get quite...unpleasant…for the lady. A little morphine, on the other hand, might be quite a treat."

"Morphine is never a treat," Doc pronounced.

"I suggest you change your mind." Liu signaled to one of the men restraining Kitty. He pulled a gun and pointed it at her head.

Doc was sure that Liu wouldn't kill her - the Chinaman thought of her as merchandise and dead merchandise wouldn't make him any profit. Doc held his breath as he stood looking defiantly at Liu. "Find someone else to do your dirty work."

"I might just do that, but they would not be as skilled as you. Maybe they would inject the wrong dose or injure her with that needle. Just go ahead and draw up the drug. Stop arguing with me." Liu lowered the gun he was holding, he knew that this cantankerous doctor had called his bluff. He wouldn't kill the American woman, she was a valuable commodity, but he could try a different tactic, one that might be more effective.

Liu stepped forward, grabbed Kitty's chin, and kissed her hard on the lips. She grunted then lashed out with her foot, catching him on the shin. He snarled, took a step back, then raised his hand and brought it down with a resounding slap her across the face. It stung like fire but Kitty didn't flinch, she just stared at him with defiant blue eyes.

Adams didn't want to see the woman he thought of as a daughter, abused any further. He could fill the syringe - that didn't mean he would use it, but it could buy him some time. Matt had to be around somewhere, every minute he could delay would bring the marshal closer.

"Come on, hurry up Doctor, before I lose my patience."

Adams reached into the box and withdrew the syringe. He picked up one of the needles.

"ThIs will need to be sterilized," he said.

"We don't bother with those formalities here. We have too much work for you to do. After 'Kitty' here, I have five other girls for you to treat. They will all suffer if you don't do your job."

Doc could see that the man was getting angry. His face was becoming quite red and apoplectic. He thought about mentioning The House of Moon, but figured that would anger Liu further, and then he might hurt Kitty in an effort to get more information from him.

He filled the syringe slowly and carefully, trying to plan in his mind what he could do to use up more time.

Liu was watching him. "That's long enough, Doctor, come over here now before I am forced to do something you might regret."

Doc avoided Kitty's eyes. He noticed she was wearing a travel outfit with long sleeves.

"I can't inject through that," he said.

Liu reached over and with one smooth movement grabbed the fabric and pulled the sleeve out from the shoulder. He yanked it off from Kitty's arm and threw it on the floor.

"Now, Doctor, what other excuses can you come up with. I have a ship ready to sail on the high tide. Time is running short."

Doc was standing next to Kitty now. He lifted the syringe and carefully tapped it with his index finger, and then gently pushed the plunger as if to get rid of any air bubbles. All his delays were making Liu more agitated. Now he could clearly see a pulsing in the man's neck. That would be his carotid artery. Strange time to think of anatomy at a time like this, but he knew that lying right next to it was the jugular vein.

"Come on, I'm tired of waiting." Liu's face was getting even redder, the pulsing in his neck becoming more frantic. The Chinaman took the ever present cheroot from his mouth and held the lighted end so close to Kitty's face that she could feel the heat from it. She tried to pull away, but the guard behind her held her head. Her eyes were searching for Doc. It was up to him to do something, but what?

"It would be a terrible shame to damage this pretty face wouldn't it?"

"You wouldn't," Kitty yelled, "then I'd be damaged goods."

Liu repositioned the cheroot and touched it to her dress. She could smell the burning fabric.

"Next time it will be your pretty white skin."

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

**Home is Where the Heart Is**

Chapter 20

"Doctor, I am waiting. Do this now or your chance is over. I will get one of my men to do it. I am sure it isn't too difficult."

Reluctantly Doc lowered the syringe towards Kitty's arm. She couldn't move because one of Liu's men was restraining her. No sense in struggling anyway. Doc looked into her face, and she saw the tears forming in his weary eyes. His face looked older than she remembered it. This was harder on him than her. She knew how much he revered the Hippocratic Oath he had taken and how much he believed in the tenet of "first, do no harm". She wanted to make it easier for him.

"It's all right, Doc," she whispered, "do what you have to do,.."

The words had hardly left her lips when so many things happened at once that the sequence was impossible to follow.

ooo000ooo

Matt pulled his Colt from its holster then, gathering every ounce of strength he could muster, raised his foot and pounded it into the wood. The result was quite dramatic. The door gave way with a splintering sound as it, and part of the frame, came detached from the wall and landed on the floor in the room beyond. Matt barely had a second to assess the situation in front of him. It seemed as if actions slowed down, his senses become more acute, and everything played out so clearly in his mind. He saw Kitty in a chair with two men behind her. One of them was holding a gun. The man tried to turn and aim at the marshal, but was much too slow.

It was a tough shot for Matt. Kitty was sitting right there. He had to hit the man and not her. There was no time for thinking. He had to trust his skill. He steadied his breathing and squeezed the trigger. The man fell to the floor with a growing red stain on his freshly-laundered shirt. The whole process had taken a fraction of a second, and the man probably never knew that a bullet was headed his way.

The second man let go of Kitty and spun around, likely also reaching for a gun. His fate was similar to the first.

From where Matt stood it looked like Doc hit the tall man with the drooping mustache, in the neck. The man collapsed almost instantly into a lifeless heap. At the same time Matt heard two more shots. He felt the familiar burning sensation of a bullet grazing his right forearm, and then another shot from behind him resulting in the man who fired that bullet landing on the floor. Two of Liu's men were still standing but Ben Williams was already herding them into a corner of the room. Matt had to check on Kitty. She was standing up now and running towards him, and Doc was kneeling beside one of the fallen men.

ooo000ooo

For Kitty the splintering crash as the door collapsed to the floor was loud enough, but it was followed almost instantly by two or three gunshots. The man who had been pointing a gun at her suddenly fell to the floor. Kitty looked towards the noise, and saw the miraculous sight she had been praying for - Matt Dillon standing tall and solid in what had been the doorway.

While all this was happening Liu had been momentarily distracted and instinctively turned his head towards the door. Doc noticed that Liu was still holding a gun and could see he was turning it towards Dillon. He didn't know what drove his hand in that instant. He suddenly had a clear view of the carotid artery in Liu's neck, and found himself aiming towards it - intending to hit the jugular vein. He thrust the syringe into Liu's neck then pushed down on the plunger. The drug that had been intended for Kitty was now forced into Liu's system. The man fell to the floor, and Doc went down after him to check for a pulse. There was a faint flutter then nothing. Maybe he had injected it directly into the artery he thought, somewhat guiltily. It had been difficult to be totally accurate in his haste.

Kitty was suddenly free. She jumped up and ran towards Matt, burying her head in his chest and letting go the tears she had been holding back.

Doc stood up and looked around at his friends - at the same time wiping his face to take away the moisture that had been forming in his eyes.

"What kept you?" he asked Dillon with a thankful grin. "Another second or two and you would have been too late."

It was only now that he realized Williams was also there in the room. His old friend was not only here with them but was brandishing a gun at two cowering men in the corner.

"Sorry, Doc, we had several delays or we'd have been here sooner."

"What do you want me to do with these two, Marshal?" Williams called out from across the room.

Doc turned to look at Matt, wondering the same thing. Then he caught sight of the growing blood stain on his Matt's shirt sleeve.

"You've been hit."

"It's just a graze, Doc, it'll keep."

"Maybe we should go and release Petrov and Tara-Lee?" Doc suggested.

Matt was moving around the room now retrieving guns that had fallen to the ground with their owners. "First I need to secure these men and make sure there are no others around."

A quick count showed six people in this room. Doc was checking on them and reported that four were dead. That tally plus the three he had tied up in the loading dock made nine. There could still be more around somewhere. Matt told them all to stay where they were while he went to check. Other than the locked rooms at the other end of the hallway, he found nothing. The three men he had tied up in the freight room where still there and no newcomers had arrived. He grabbed some more rope and headed back.

Having secured his two new prisoners he gave Doc a gun and told him and Kitty to stay there and watch them. Williams went with him to find where the other prisoners were being held.

At first the girls that Liu had locked up were scared when Dillon blasted the lock off of their cell. He told them who he was and that they were safe now. He told Ben Williams to take them back to the room where Kitty and Doc were.

Then he went to find Petrov. He had only heard about him from Tara-Lee. When he finally met him he was surprised to find a tall burly man with an unusually gentle voice.

The problem now was what to do with all these people. Petrov suggested locking Liu's men in one of the cells then sending a wire to the nearest sheriff so he could come and arrest them and take care of the dead. Matt would also send a report to Washington when he got home, but for now had no better alternative. With Williams' help he gathered the three from the loading dock and the two from Liu's office and put them all in one of the cells. He left them a bucket of water so they wouldn't die of thirst but figured they would all escape long before the sheriff showed up.

He had shot out the locks on the make-shift cells so he had to jam the door with a wrench he found. It should hold them long enough to allow him and his friends to get clear. He had a feeling that without Liu, these men wouldn't be too dangerous anyway.

ooo000ooo

The trip back to Filbert Street required three carriages and a little organization. The five girls shared a room at the hotel until they could contact their families to come and get them. Williams checked them over and apart from being scared and having nothing to eat for a few days they seemed unharmed and in good spirits. While Kitty went to order some food and help them settle in, Doc took Matt aside.

"Come on now, it's time I looked at your arm."

Surprisingly Matt didn't object, he wanted some time alone with Doc to tell him that he planned to take him back to Dodge City.

Adams opened the door to his new consulting room and Matt was taken by surprise. It was almost a copy of Ben Williams' room across the hall. Deep leather armchairs, an almost new examination table covered with clean, soft leather. None of the scratches or blood stains that were present on the one in Doc's office in Dodge, marred the surface of this one. The room was much larger too. A big oak desk sat towards one wall with studded leather chairs in front and a tall winged chair behind.

Doc opened a cupboard door and Matt could see a stack of freshly laundered white towels. Adams took one down and arranged it on a small marble topped table, then moved a chair next to it.

"Roll up your shirt sleeve and sit down there." Doc was all business. He knew Matt was going to jump all over him for leaving Dodge. Maybe he had been little hasty - after all here Matt was, half way across the country, risking his life yet again.

Doc tried to hide his apprehension by gathering instruments and bottles of antiseptic he would need. Matt, meantime, noticed how clean and organized everything was. There was even a large book case that was almost empty. He knew Doc had many books and they would not all fit on the small three shelves he had back in Dodge, but this bookcase would hold all those and leave room for plenty more. Even the surgical instruments looked shiny and new, and the enamel bowls Doc had placed them in weren't cracked and chipped. How was he going to talk him into leaving this place? He looked around some more and saw Doc's familiar black bag on the desk. It was old and frayed at the edges, the corners were a little tattered and rough - somewhat like its owner. It looked a little out of place here in this well-furnished room with all its modern niceties. His friend looked a little out of place too.

Doc studied the wound for a minute.

"It's going to need stitches," he commented, noting the raw gash to be about four inches long and as much as an inch deep in places.

"I figured it would."

Doc looked at his friend trying to judge what he meant by that comment. Matt returned his look with a steady gaze.

Doc picked up a bottle of alcohol to clean the gash.

"This'll sting a bit."

Partly because he needed to start the conversation, and partly because he wanted to distract himself from the fierce burning pain as the alcohol came into contact with the damaged flesh, Matt made the first move.

"It's time for you to come back to Dodge, Doc."

"Supposing I don't want to come back?" Doc was dabbing at wound with a gauze swab.

"Dodge needs you, you know that." The stoic marshal flinched a little as Adams hit a sensitive piece of skin.

"Hold still now. I arranged for Dr. Sutherland to come. You still have a physician in town."

"That's not the same, and you know it." He drew a sharp breath as the physician poured more alcohol into the wound. Having recovered himself he continued.

"Dodge City needs you. Kitty needs you." Somehow he wasn't ready to admit that he needed him too. "You've got so many friends there, Doc. You need to come back."

Doc reached for the needle and forceps. By being involved in what he was doing he could avoid many of the questions.

"Hold still now and stop talking."

"Doc you're not listening to me."

"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm busy."

Matt tried another approach

"Kitty said you left because you didn't want me to rescue you from that cabin with Jed Butler."

Doc was about to pick up one edge of the wounded skin and push the suture needle through. He stopped and looked at his friend while holding the instruments still in his steady hands.

"Matt, I didn't want to watch you be killed while trying to save my life. I couldn't bear that."

"I had no intention of dying. Somehow something would have worked out in my favor, just like it did. It's all part of my job, Doc. This badge never came with the promise of a long life."

Doc pushed the suture needle through the skin then looked back to the marshal's eyes.

"I don't want to be around when your luck runs out."

Matt decided that somehow he had to admit his own feelings, not easy for him to do.

"Doc, I guess that most of all….I need you. Just like now, there is no one else I can trust to patch me up. You remember Dan Gratt? I am not sure anyone else could have pulled me through that. That's when I knew how lucky Dodge was to have you."

Adams didn't want to hear this. He knew he was important to Dodge - but there were other physicians just as competent - maybe even more so. He didn't have to go back if he didn't want to - but that was the point, he really did want to. San Francisco was nice. He was physically more comfortable here, but he didn't feel he belonged. He could never say that to the man in front of him.

"Stop talking now and hold still while I stitch this together."

"I came here to take you back, and I'm not leaving without you. Ouch!"

"We'll see about that. Don't be such a baby, I've put stitches in you before. You don't usually make such a fuss."

The conversation hadn't gone exactly as Adams planned.

Doc looked at the forceps in his hand and prepared to insert the next suture. He knew that Matt wouldn't move - he was too stoic for that. All the complaining was just for show, just to annoy him. Then to his relief there was a quiet knock on the door and Ben Williams' head appeared.

"Do you need any help, Galen?"

"You can come and cut for me." With someone else in the room the conversation would be over for now.

Carefully Doc inserted his neat even sutures which would minimize any scaring. Williams watched, he was always impressed by his friend's surgical skills. Carefully he cut the silk as each stitch was completed. It took a total of nine to close the gash. He was quite entertained by the back and forth ribbing that went on between the two men. He also noted how, in spite of complaining, Dillon never moved a muscle. These two men had a deep understanding.

At last it was finished, and Williams left. Doc reached into another cabinet and brought to a roll of bandage.

"I should put that arm in a sling so it can heal faster." Of course he knew Dillon wouldn't accept that, so he covered it with a thick cotton bandage and told him not to get in any fights for a day or two.

Matt rolled his shirt sleeve down, noting that it could also do with some repair, then buttoned the cuff

"This conversation isn't over, Doc," he said as he got up to leave.

Doc watched him close the door and ran his hand through his hair. He really wanted to go home to Dodge, but couldn't admit that to himself or anyone else.

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

**Home is Where the Heart Is**

Chapter 21

Kitty was concerned about Tara-Lee and the other Chinese girls. Two of them looked so young that they reminded her of herself and the tragedies that had marked her own early life. She hoped they had good families who would take them back and protect them until they recovered from this horrible experience.

As for herself, as soon as she saw Matt Dillon's overpowering presence standing there in the doorway, she knew that Liu's game was over and that she, Doc and the other girls would all be safe. He didn't like open displays of emotion - he claimed it was too dangerous - but she couldn't keep herself from running to him, and he in turn took her in an all-to-brief protective embrace. Feeling his strong arms surround her dispelled all her fears instantly. Of course he quickly went back to being the lawman everyone knew so well, and set about organizing how to get everyone out of there, but for that brief instant there had been just the two of them in the room.

Less than two years had passed since Kitty had made the decision to stay in Dodge City for a while just because she had seen that same man eating breakfast in Delmonico's. At the time it was just his looks that had attracted her. The sincere blue eyes shining from his weathered face, the dark hair falling into somewhat unruly curls, his boyish smile, and most of all the size of the man - they had all fascinated her. In the many months that had passed since then, she had gotten to know the real Matt Dillon. She understood more about him, and what he and that badge stood for, than any other person in Dodge City with the possible exception of Doc Adams. She understood his torments and his fears and his overwhelming drive to protect people from the outlaws and killers who rode through his territory. He hated the killers and the spoilers, as he called them, and knew he was one of the few men who had the ability to do much about them. He saw himself as the only force of law and order in a big, untamed land, but he had another side. He could be quiet, even gentle and introspective at times. He hated when he had to draw his gun and kill someone, but accepted it as part of the job. She had discovered how that job got in the way of so many things in his life - how he couldn't commit to a relationship, how a wife and family were not on the cards for him, how his time was never his own. Matt Dillon was always the marshal no matter the hour, night or day. She loved how he came to the Long Branch to seek her company before making his late night rounds of the town. They would sit at that back table, and for a few minutes he would drop that stoic facade and they could laugh and chat like two regular people, but it never lasted long. He would maybe get to drink a beer, or at least half of one, and then suddenly that time was over, he was back being the guardian of the town and everyone it. The cloak of that heavy responsibility would come down on him once more, and he would walk back out into the night as Marshal Dillon.

Kitty had changed out of her ruined dress and now refreshed with her hair back in place she set out to make sure the Chinese girls were taken care of. The small hotel a few doors down from Dr. Williams office had a large vacant room, and she arranged for them to move in then ordered food to be taken up for them. For the first time in a while she realized that she was hungry too, and sat chatting with the girls while they ate.

They all had the same story - they were grabbed off of the streets of Chinatown and taken to Liu's warehouse. Fortunately the two younger girls didn't comprehend the life that was intended for them if Matt hadn't come to the rescue. The older more experienced girls knew good and well what had lay ahead - but they were already hardened to life on the streets, and would probably return there in a day or so after catching up on food and sleep.

She went back to Dr. William's office just in time to see Matt coming out of Doc's room.

"How's your arm?" she asked.

"A little stiff but it'll be fine in a day or so."

"You want some coffee? There's a small kitchen back there."

She indicated the direction and Matt followed. They needed a place to sit and talk. They were sitting at the same table where she and Tara-Lee had been sitting just before they were kidnapped yesterday. It seemed much longer ago than that because so much had happened.

"He didn't hurt you did he, Kitty?"

"Just scared me a little, but it's over now."

Matt was thoughtful. She was used to his silences and it didn't worry her or make her feel uncomfortable. When she had first got to know him she thought something was wrong and that he had nothing much to say to her, but she knew better now.

"What are we going to do about Doc?" he finally asked as he got up to refill his coffee cup. He offered to pour some more for her but she declined.

"Not too sure there is much we can do, Matt. He's a grown man and has to make up his own mind. You can't just order him to return to Dodge."

"I don't see why not. We all need him to be there."

"I would love to have him back, but it has to be his decision. Have you thought why it is that you need him so much?"

Matt stood up again. He was getting restless. This wasn't something he liked to think about. Just why did he need Doc there? Like he had managed to tell the physician a few minutes ago he liked having someone there to patch him up if the need arose, and he had faith in Adams' abilities. But it was more than that. There were very few people in Dodge that he could think of as a friend. Sure there was Chester, and of course Kitty. He could think of a couple of the ranchers who were good people, but they weren't really friends. There was Moss Grimmick, yes, he could always rely on him. But Doc was special. He was a rock - someone who he could talk to, someone he could get advice from, someone he could go to any hour, night or day, and know he wouldn't be turned away. He was pacing the floor now. Having to think about his feelings made him agitated.

"I've thought about it, Kitty."

"Maybe you need to tell him."

She picked up the now empty coffee cups and took them to the bowl by the sink.

ooo000ooo

Adams remained in his room once Matt had left. He took comfort in the routine of cleaning his instruments and putting them back where they belonged. As he dried them on a clean towel he compared them with his own, back in Dodge. These were all shiny and new. All the catches worked smoothly, and the forceps were easy to manipulate. Even the suture needles were of high quality. This office was a dream, everything he could want. San Francisco had so much to offer as well - opera, plays, and of course the medical society at Tolands. Dodge City had none of these, but it did have Kitty Russell and Matt Dillon.

He looked at his medical bag - the same one Dillon had noticed a while before. Like himself it was getting old and frayed around the edges. Ben Williams had even bought him a new one - but he didn't like it. It was too stiff, and the inside pockets were in the wrong place. He guessed he was like that - just in the wrong place. This practice was a great opportunity for someone, but he didn't fit. How could he tell his friend that? Ben had been so excited that Adams should join his practice - how could he back out now?

Earlier he had killed a man, a bad man admittedly, but a man. He had only intended to stun him, but he had either missed the jugular vein and injected the morphine directly into the carotid artery or else the drug was a lot more potent than he thought. He hated to consider what would have happened if he had injected it into Kitty.

He was dragged from his self-recrimination by a knock at his door. He wanted to tell whoever it was to go away, but it was too late. The door was already opening. Tara-Lee and Petrov stood there, hand in hand.

"We wanted to come and thank you, Doctor."

"Come in, come in." he waved them in and pulled out chairs for them.

He was surprised to see how well Petrov was doing - after all, less than four days ago he would not have given much for his chances of survival. As for Tara -Lee she had bathed and changed clothes, and looked quite beautiful. He thought he recognized one of Kitty's outfits.

"Where are you staying?" he asked as he sat down in a chair across from them. He could see the sparkle in Tara-Lee's eyes now that her husband had been returned to her.

"Doctor Williams had got me a room at the hotel, it is small but big enough for us for a day or two."

"Where will you be going?"

"We haven't decided yet," Petrov answered for them, "But it will be somewhere far from here."

"We wanted to thank the marshal for saving us all," Tara-Lee added as she reached over and took Petrov's hand. "He is a brave man."

"He's that and more," agreed Adams, "And a good friend of mine."

'Kitty said they would be returning to Dodge City soon, maybe we could go there. She said there would be a lot of work for someone as strong as Petrov."

Doc had to stand up and walk to the window. He didn't want to think about Dodge City right now.

"Yes, they will go back there in a few days," he managed to reply. "It is a busy town, and Petrov would find many opportunities. You might even be able to get your own piece of land to farm." He turned back from the window to face them as he spoke.

"You will not be going with them?" Petrov asked "I was told that you used to live in Dodge, and that they are your friends."

"This is my home now." The way he said it put an end to the discussion.

Tara-Lee looked at her husband before glancing back to Doc. She sensed a need to change the subject.

"We need to go thank the marshal before we leave," she said in a quieter voice.

"He's around somewhere." Doc watched Petrov stand up from where he had been sitting then offer his hand to his wife as she rose to stand beside him.

"We'll go look for him. I hope we see you again sometime, Doctor." He reached over to shake hands left handed because his right was still heavily bandaged.

"You'd better come back later, and let me put a plaster cast on that for you." In all the confusion of the last few days, Doc had forgotten that Petrov's arm was still in that make-shift splint.

"I'll see that he does, Doctor. Right now we need to thank the marshal."

They left, and Adams closed the door behind them. Everyone else seemed to have put the last few days behind them, and were ready to move on with their lives. Some were planning to go home, and others excited to find somewhere new. Somehow his life was fixed right here now.

He had finished cleaning his instruments and had nothing left to occupy his mind. He certainly didn't want to talk with Matt or Kitty right now. He gathered his old hat and that tattered medical bag and headed for the Misses Betts Boarding House. Maybe things would look better in the morning.

TBC


	22. Chapter 22

**Home is Where the Heart Is**

Chapter 22

It was much later that evening. Adams had returned to the Misses Betts Boarding House for Gentlemen. As always supper had been impeccable and now he was sitting in his own small parlor trying to come to terms with the day's events in his mind. He knew that in a short while his friends would be back on the train headed for Dodge City. Who knew if he would ever see them again?

And then there was the reason he left Dodge in the first place - he didn't want Matt risking his life to save his own, but distance didn't mean a lot to Dillon. Doc knew that the marshal could have been killed trying to rescue him from Liu Xiang. It didn't make any difference if he was in Dodge City, Kansas, or San Francisco, California, that risk would be the same because Matt Dillon would always be there when he was needed. It's like Kitty had said, "Matt will always do what Matt wants to do, and not you or anyone else can prevent that. We may not like it or agree with it, but there's no way to change it."

Doc ran his fingers through his greying hair and tried to think clearly. He kept seeing Liu fall to the ground over and over again. He knew he had brought about his death - either buy injecting the morphine directly into an artery or delivering the wrong dose. Either way a man was dead by his hand.

He was about to get up from the chair by the fireplace and get ready for bed. Maybe a good night's sleep would help him see things more clearly. There was a soft tap at the door, and one of the Betts sisters called out that he had a visitor. He got up to unlock the door to be greeted by Ben Williams.

"I decided to come and see that you were all right, Galen. I thought maybe you might need something."

Adams noted that he was still dressed in the clothes he had been wearing earlier in the day - not his usual frock coat and top hat.

"Come in." He waved his friend into the room. "I'm surprised the good Misses Betts allowed you to come in here dressed like that."

The friends shared a smile at the thought.

"Come and sit down," he indicated the other chair by the fireplace. There was a small drinks cabinet in the corner of the room, and Doc opened it to pour two shots of whisky. He handed one to Williams.

"What brings you here at this time of night?"

"I was a little worried about you. I saw what happened today, and wanted to tell you that you did the right thing. I checked all those girls over, at Miss Russell's request. There was nothing wrong with any of them that a few good meals and a good night's sleep won't cure. Of course they had all been scared, but no physical harm was done. One of those girls was only twelve years old, Galen. You saved her from a life of misery."

"I guess you're right. It's just bad to know I killed a man with my own hands."

"Even that marshal friend of yours said there was nothing else you could have done."

Both men stopped for a moment and drank a little of the amber liquid from the fine glass tumblers that the Misses Betts had provided. There was silence for a while. Williams had come to say something, and there was no way to do it but to get started.

"You know, Galen, I was so excited when you agreed to come here. Dr. Mortimer is retiring at the end of the month, as you know, and I thought it would be like old times for you and me to work together. But it's not, is it? It's true that you can't go back, and I was foolish to even think it would work." Williams had risen to his feet, and was walking back and forth across the room. "I know you're not happy here. No, let me finish," he held up his hand as Adams made a move to speak. "I have been talking with your friend Miss Russell. It seems you are sorely needed in Dodge City. Your replacement isn't working out too well. He doesn't like the responsibility of being the only physician for miles around, and he has some problems he needs to work through. This may be a better environment to get him back on his feet."

Adams looked hard into his friend's eyes, trying to see if this was really the way he felt, or if he was trying to let him off the hook gently.

"Let's face it Galen," Williams continued, "You don't really fit in here, and your surgical skills are going to waste. I watched as you sutured the marshal's arm earlier today, and saw that there's a bond between you two. He trusts you, may even depend on you, and I think you watch over him too. Your hands are steady and true, but you would lose that skill if you stayed here much longer." Again Adams tried to interrupt, but Ben Williams continued, "Wait, there is something else I want you to hear. You have shown me that we need to take care of people in the poorer parts of town. If Dr. Sutherland agrees, we will try to find a small office space down there near Chinatown where we can run a clinic one day a week. People won't have to pay unless they can afford it. Nothing fancy mind, but there are so many there who need our help. You've reminded me of those responsibilities, Galen. I had forgotten the ideals of our youth."

Adams swallowed the last of his whisky. What could he say? Suddenly a weight was lifted from his shoulders. He could go home.

"You mean all that don't you?" he asked - just wanting to be sure before he got up from his chair to offer his friend another drink.

"Indeed I do, and no I won't have another one now. I have to go home to my wife before she starts to worry. Just think on it, Doctor."

Adams saw him to the door, and bolted it after he left. Somehow he felt much lighter. He would sleep well tonight.

ooo000ooo

It was a week later that three people stepped down from the Santa Fe at the Dodge City depot. Chester was waiting there with a wagon to take them all home. To Matt and Kitty it was back to 'business as usual', but for Galen Adams it was an awakening, a new appreciation for Dodge City and its dirt streets. Maybe it was not as fancy as San Francisco, but he knew he had all he needed here.

That evening there were four people sitting around that same table in the Long Branch Saloon. Both Adams and Sutherland were there with Matt and Kitty. Chester had found himself a Faro dealer to give his money to a few tables away.

Doc had outlined the plan to Sutherland who seemed quite enthusiastic. He really thought he could make a go of things in San Francisco where he wouldn't have sole responsibility, and there was someone nearby he could call if he got out of his depth.

While the physicians continued with their conversation, Matt had got Kitty to follow him to that quiet alley out back of the saloon. Usually no one was around and it sometimes afforded them a brief opportunity to get to know each other better.

"I don't know how you did it, Kitty."

"Did what?" she returned his stare with a totally blank look of innocence on her face.

"How you got Doc to come home."

She shook her head, "It wasn't anything to do with me, Matt, I guess he just missed this old cow-town too much."

He reached for her chin and raised it a little so he could plant a soft kiss on her delicate lips. Her heart quickened a little as it always did when he came close to her.

"Whatever you did, I want to thank you."

ooo000ooo

Epilogue

It was an evening about four months later, almost time to close up the Long Branch Saloon for the night. Matt had finished the last drop of beer from the mug in front of him and was about to head out to make his final rounds of the evening. He reached out to gather up his hat from the chair beside him when a familiar voice stopped him.

"Hold up there, Mr. Marshal." Doc's gruff voice seemed abnormally cheerful - for him anyway.

"What's the matter, Doc?" Matt called back "You just cured a sick cow from bloat or something?"

"No, this is serious." He pulled a letter from his pocket and handed it to Kitty.

She opened the letter and scanned the first few lines. "Oh, this is wonderful news Doc." For Matt's benefit she read the important paragraph out loud.

"It's from Dr. Williams. He says that Alan is working out really well and seems to be gaining more confidence every day - he has even started walking-out with a young lady he met at the theatre a few weeks ago. Tara-Lee and Petrov have moved out to Oakland and bought a small freight business with some of the money he was paid for breaking up Liu's gang. They had a little money over and donated it towards the new clinic. You'll enjoy this part Matt - Tara-Lee insisted they call it "The Doctor Galen Adams Medical Clinic". Several of the girls who were rescued donated a little - as did the the family of that twelve-year-old who were extremely generous. He says that Dr. Sutherland is enjoying his work there, and sends me a message that he has finished searching in whisky bottles."

Matt gave her a quizzical look. She just laughed, Doc understood her meaning, and in a few moments they were all laughing. She called to Red to bring them each a shot of whisky as a nightcap.

"Let's drink to the Doctor Galen Adams Medical Clinic - and to Dr. Alan Sutherland - may they both flourish."

Glasses were raised and the sentiment eagerly toasted. For a while at least, all was back to normal in Dodge City.

End

AN: I want to thank everyone who hung with me through all 22 chapters.

To guests A Lurker, Gunsmokefan, MMB and Guest, I really appreciate your thoughtful comments but couldn't reply individually. It is good to know that folks out there enjoyed what I wrote.

LadyBrit.


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